Resonating Between the Notes
by Kashii Ai
Summary: When Kishin Asura's followers take a crack at Hogwarts, Spartoi is called into action to protect it. Great adventures and new relationships await, all mixed between the notes of Soul Resonance. Will everyone be able to hear? Songfic. SoulxMakaxKid OT3.
1. Track 1: Sell Your Soul

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

_Resonating Between the Notes_ Story copyright (c) 2010 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

ALL MUSICAL LYRICS AND AUDIO TRACKS copyright (c) to respective owners. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics or audio tracks

* * *

**A/N:** OKAY PEEPS~~!! A few things you, my dear readers, need to know.

This is a songfic. But not just any ordinary songfic, oh, no! This is a very special and unique kind, where I will be using the power of _sound_. As in, I will be feeding you all the audio tracks for each chapter, to listen to AS you read the chapter. Also, some songs will appear directly in the story, as a form of context. Like . . . one of the characters is singing the song, or playing a song, and that song is one of the audio tracks you are given. SO! You listen to the song as the character sings/plays it.

However, this is optional. You don't have to do that if you don't want; you can simply read the fic without sound, if you so prefer.

BUT! I highly encourage that you DO listen to the music as you read, at the time it appears in the fic, as I think it will very much add to your experience with this story. Basically, this is more of an _experience_ than just a _story_. That is my intention, anyway.

Eh, another note. This is obviously a crossover. XD And I am perfectly aware that the Second Wizarding War ended in 1999. However, for the sake of merging the two worlds and your dear author's sanity, this fic is taking place in present-time, which is when Soul Eater takes place, so 2010 it is! XD Therefore, this is slightly AU-ish Harry Potter, in terms of decade.

As for the music you will be provided; each chapter will open with a song, that encompasses the overall theme of the chapter (this is completely separated from the body of the story and in _no way_ will appear in it), and there will be other songs throughout the chapter that appear in context.

You have several options to listen to the audio tracks I'm providing you:

1. I will be providing a playlist of the music for that chapter at the beginning of each. THIS IS JUST FOR THE SONGS THAT APPEAR IN CONTEXT, _**NOT**_ FOR THE OPENING SONG. The opening song URL will appear with the title of the opening song. XD The URL's for the context-songs are given to you in the playlist that precedes the chapter. You will see this said playlist below my A/N. This will require you to open multiple YouTube windows before you start reading the chapter (meh, or you can just open as you go, but what I'm suggesting may be easier).

2. I have created a playlist on YouTube, called the Resonating Between the Notes Full Soundtrack. It is in the same order you will find in the story, and on the music list given below my A/N.

You can find it **here**:  
http: // www. youtube. com /view_ play_ list? p=0DBEC 2D2B0147 18B&search _query= resonating+ between+the +notes+ full+ soundtrack +playlist

Take the spaces out, or the URL won't work. Sorry it's so long . . .

If you want to read the chapter in silence, BUT still want the music to listen to after-the-fact, but for some reason don't want to use the Resonating Between the Notes Full Soundtrack, I will be providing a full list of music and their URLs at the end of each chapter, that appeared in that chapter.

OKAY!! I am so sorry for such a long A/N!! But this story requires a lot of setup. '^^ ANYWAY!! I send you off to an awesome fanfiction-musical-magical experience!!

Read, listen, have fun, and ROCK ON FOREVER!! \M/ ^^ \M/

**

* * *

**

When music is to appear in context of the chapter, you will have a cue to start it. This cue is the **prose highlighted in bold, followed by a number in parentheses (1)** and this is your signal to start the song. The number in parentheses corresponds with_** BOTH**_ the Resonating Between the Notes Full Soundtrack, and the playlist I give you below. If it says (1), that song is first up in the setlist.

Music:

1. Tiny Heart _by Flyleaf_

URL: http: //www. youtube .com /watch ?v= xb4MNmBFKoA

* * *

_**Opening **__**  
The Fight to Survive**_

**Sell Your Soul**  
by  
_Hollywood Undead_

Youtube Link:

(Don't forget to take out ALL the spaces, so this will work)

http: //www. youtube. com /watch? v= Lc9RyX8yP28

I'm holding on  
so tightly now,  
my insides_  
scream_ so loud  
They keep watchin'—  
watchin' me drown.  
How did it come to this?

HOW DID IT COME TO _THIS_?  
How did I know it was you?  
It was a bad dream;  
asphyxiated,  
watch me bleed!  
The life support was cut,  
the knot was too tight.  
They push and pull me,  
but they know they'll_  
never_ win!

_Throw it all awaaay!!  
Throw it all awaaay_

I keep on screaming,  
but there's really nothing left to say!!  
_  
So get awaaay,  
just get awaaayy!!  
_  
I keep on fighting,  
but I can't keep going on this way!!

I can't keep going,  
can't keep goin' . . .  
on like this.

They make me sick,  
and I get so sick of it.

'Cause they won't let me—  
they won't let me breath.  
Why can't they let me be?

_Why can't they let me BE?_  
Why don't I know what I _am_?  
I FORCE this hate  
into my heart,  
'Cause it's my only friend.  
My lips are sewn _shut_,  
I watch myself _bleed_,  
they push and pull me,  
and it's _killing_ me within!!

_Throw it all awaaay!!  
Throw it all awaaay_

I keep on screaming,  
but there's really nothing left to say!!  
_  
So get awaaay,  
just get awaaayy!!  
_  
I keep on fighting,  
but I can't keep going on this way!!

I can't keep going,  
can't keep going  
on this waaayyy  
. . .

I can't keep going,  
can't keep going  
on  
this  
way!

My heart beat STUmBles,  
and my back bone cr_u _m_b les_  
I _feel _is it _real_?  
As the lynch mob douu blles!!  
They want **BlOoD**  
and they'll _kill_ for it!!  
Drain me  
and they'll _kneel_ for it.  
Burn me at the _stake_  
met the devil,  
make a _deal_ for it!!

Guillotine dreams, _**YAH**_,  
their guillotine _**GLEAMS**_.  
The _**blOOod**_ of their enemies,  
Watchin' while they  
sentence me.  
Sentencing **ceased**,  
sentence de**ceased**,  
and watch'em bask  
in the _glory_  
of their  
Holy _disease._

_Throw it all awaaay!!  
Throw it all awaaay_

I keep on screaming,  
but there's really nothing left to say!!  
_  
So get awaaay,  
just get awaaayy!!  
_  
I keep on fighting,  
but I can't keep going on this way!!

I keep on runnin'!  
I keep on runnin'!

I keep on runnin'!  
but I can't keep

going on this way!!

I keep on runnin'!  
I keep on runnin'!  
I keep on runnin'!  
but I can't keep

going on this

_waaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaaaayyy!!_

* * *

All was quiet in the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole. It was approximately eight forty in the morning, and both the magical and muggle communities were suspended in that quiet time, just after the residents had vacated their homes for work; a typical Wednesday. It was just the last edge of the summer holidays, and the late August air was already growing hot under the newly minted morning sun. Birds chirped in the still, sultry air, and bees and insects were already beginning to lazily buzz around the lush greenery that this part of England was so well known for. A house sat among the well-forested area on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole in a large meadow, the grassy area surrounded by trees. The house was most unusual, as it was arranged in a pell-mell fashion, random bits of building stacked together and glued with what apparently could only be magic. Several Wellington boots and a pair of careworn-looking sneakers sat jumbled around an old cauldron near the doorway, the items scattered randomly over the front doorstep. Several fat chickens were already pecking in the yard, scratching for their morning seed. A sign stuck crooked in the ground near the entrance proclaimed that this place was called "The Burrow."

Two teenage boys emerged from the interior of the house, stumbling briefly over the shoes strewn over the front porch before continuing on their way down the dirt path that wound through the messily overgrown garden. One boy was tall and lanky, standing a few inches taller than his friend. He had a bright shock of russet hair, and his eyes were bright sapphire-blue in his freckled face. He loped along with a slightly quirky, flowing grace. The other boy was a little shorter, but just as slenderly built. He was as dark as his friend was fair—black, messy hair that stuck up at the back, and waved slightly in the breeze. His eyes were bright frog-green behind his round wire spectacles. The breeze ruffled his bangs back from his face, revealing a strange zig-zag shaped scar on the right side of his forehead.

Four months had passed since the final Battle of Hogwarts, and the Second Wizarding War had ended with Voldemort's death. The rebuilding had begun, and the Wizarding world was on its successful way to recovery. Harry Potter had been more in demand than ever—he was wanted everywhere. The Ministry of Magic wanted him in a position of power, offering him the post of Auror without taking his N.E.W.T.s, as well as Order of Merlin, First Class. Harry refused the Ministry position, but reluctantly accepted the Order of Merlin, though he refused to include the title in his signature. Instead, Harry chose to return to Hogwarts with his two best friends, and complete his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Currently, he resided at the Burrow with his surrogate family.

Ron sighed despondently as they made their way through the garden, eyes cast down, "I can't believe Errol died . . ."

"Well . . . the creature was _ancient_. It was about time."

"But he's been in my family for _years_, since before I was born!"

Harry shrugged, "It was just his time to go."

"I can't imagine our family without Errol . . ."

Harry tried his best not to snort and changed the subject, "What d'you think McGonagall wants us, for?"

"Who knows? Rebuilding duties?" He asked, stopping just outside the yard, where the anti-apparition spell ceased. Harry stopped, too, and checked his watch, "Eight forty-seven. Good, we'll be there on time." The Headmistress had made it clear that they had to arrive in her office at nine o' clock, sharp. And one did not contradict strict Professor McGonagall when she named a specific time and date. Harry caught Ron's brief grin just before he spun on the spot and everything went black. He endured the strange, crushing sensation, having grown used to it. He stumbled a little as his feet hit ground once again, and opened his eyes to the village of Hogsmeade. Ron appeared beside him with a small, faint pop and looked around, "Everything looks to be shaping up nicely." Indeed, the village had returned quickly to its efficient hubbub of commerce; it was one of the places that recovered the fastest after the end of the second war. Harry smiled at the shopkeepers and customers bustling about busily, and beckoned to Ron, "C'mon. Let's go." He started down High Street, followed by his friend, and they reached the end of the village. They made their way past Hogsmeade station, and both raised their eyes to the huge iron gate flanked by winged boars that led into Hogwarts. Everything appeared as ordinary as ever, perfectly at peace.

Harry grinned, "You wouldn't think there had been a war."

"Yeah. Let's get going before McGonagall has reason to kill us."

"Right."

They made their way through the gate and up through the grounds. The air was cooler here in Scotland, near a lake. The wind stirred across the lush grass, ruffling their hair and clothing as the two boys made their way up to the ancient castle. It was quieter than usual, as term did not begin for another week and a half. Harry stopped at the double doors, placing his hands on them for a moment and reveling in the ancient magic of this school he loved so much, before pushing them open and leading the way into the Entrance Hall. They went straight to the grand staircase, and climbed all the way up to the seventh floor. Harry easily made his way to the stone gargoyle, and stopped, "Er . . . what's the password?" He asked.

"Victory." Ron guessed, shrugging. To their surprise, the gargoyle leapt aside, allowing them access. Harry grinned, "Good guess, mate."

"I try." Ron smiled back, and followed Harry onto the spiral staircase as it began to ascend. The wooden door was familiar to Harry as he knocked.

"Enter." Came McGonagall's voice from the other side. Harry opened the door to the circular office, and stepped inside. It had not changed much. Harry felt his breath catch at the sight of the arrangement of the office, so like it had been in Dumbledore's day. The small, silver, spindly instruments that Harry remembered from his previous times in here sat on their small tables, each humming musically, a soft, soothing sound. One would think he were still alive, were it not for the portrait of Harry's late mentor hanging behind the desk, nor the female Professor seated behind the large, ornately beautiful wooden desk, "Potter, Weasley. I'm glad you two made it on time."

"Yeah. What did you need to see us for, Professor?" Harry asked politely, stepping farther into the office. McGonagall conjured a second chair for Ron, and gestured for both of them to sit. Harry took the large, comfortable chair, while Ron sat gingerly on the edge of his Professor's straight-backed, stern number, as though the thing would spring to life and eat him whole. McGonagall was silent for a few more minutes as she looked over several documents, then finally afforded them her undivided attention, "Potter, since it is currently almost safe, the Dursleys will be coming out of hiding."

"Then . . . what do you need me, for? I have no desire to see them."

"You are well aware of the Death Eaters still in hiding. The Ministry is working hard to flush them out and arrest them. Despite this, the Death Eaters still believe that Voldemort will rise again."

"That's never gonna happen, that _can't_ hap—"

"I know, I know." She said, holding up a hand to silence him, "But they don't know that. Thus, the Dursleys will need a guard. You and Weasely will suffice until term begins again."

"But—"

"The choice is yours."

"Oh . . ."

"I can always extend them a guard from among the Professors here, or the Ministry can arrange them one."

Harry was silent, considering this possibility. Honestly, he would rather asphyxiate himself than have to go back to the Dursleys. He looked up at Ron, waiting patiently for his verdict. But one of his best friends in the whole world would be with him. The young wizard sighed and rubbed his temples, wondering what he should do. Sure, he could let them have a guard from the Ministry, or provided by Hogwarts. But he wouldn't be able to, couldn't be able to _stand_ it if a member of that guard got hurt, because he was selfish. And besides, he would have one his most favorite people ever by his side, he was now eighteen and most definitely a fully qualified wizard, and he and Dudley had left each other on . . . kind of good terms. The famous boy pulled his hands from his forehead, and looked up, a small smile plastered on his face.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

Death mansion was silent, with exception of the soft rustle of pages and the occasional cough or sigh from the library. Death the Kid rested his cheek in his hand as he opened yet another book on curses, perusing the table of contents. Three months since his weapons had rescued him from the Book of Eibon and released him from imprisonment, and this damned curse on him still hadn't been lifted. The library was hot, despite the air conditioned building. Summers in the Nevada desert were always sweltering, even here on oasis where Death City resided. They would be entering their junior year this fall—only about another two weeks left before the school year resumed again. He flipped to a chapter that looked mildly promising and skimmed through the advanced text—written in Latin—but then again he was learned in all languages. His eyes left the page for a moment to glance up at the small blonde girl sitting next to him.

At sixteen, Maka Albarn was growing into a lovely young woman. Her ashy blonde hair was still styled in those ridiculously childish-but-sweet pigtails. Her full pink lips were pursed as she focused on her reading, one small, slender hand holding open the book, as the other idly twirled a tress of wheat-spun gold around her thin finger. Those huge, beautiful liquid-emerald eyes that so easily sucked him in were busily scanning back and forth, reading. Her figure was developing as well; her childlike, scrawny body filling out to slender, sinuous curves; her chest was already a gentle, compact curve, her hips becoming rounder and fuller. Kid shook his head to clear it and returned his eyes to the tome.

Yes, he was attracted to Maka. It was not uncommon for them to end up making out, as well as the unseemly touching and behavior that would often follow—in deserted hallways between classes; in the darkness of one of their living rooms, while a movie played onscreen; when they were bored at one of the many parties that their friends commonly held. It was no strings attached, just something to entertain them. They weren't a couple. Just friends. Okay, sort-of friends . . . with a thing. But nothing more.

His eyes wandered back to her face, anyway. Phshaw. Hopeless.

Maka felt Kid's stare on her, and she raised her eyes to his, becoming lost for a moment in floods of ochre, "Something the matter?" The shinigami shook his head and dropped his gaze to his book, slanted, exotic gold eyes covered by long, soft, inky lashes. Maka stared at him for a moment longer, than tore her stare from her sometimes-lover. Her eyes flickered briefly to the well-worn paperback sitting near the corner of the table. _Romeo and Juliet._ It was her favorite play, and the idea of being so in love, completely swept off her feet—Maka sighed, and tried to focus harder on the words before her. Her eyes read them, but her brain did not process, seeing only the mechanics of the sentence, the punctuation inflections.

She could smell Kid beside her. His natural scent was sharp and fresh, like that of rain, the earth after it was washed clean with water. And ozone, the staticy, ashy smell of power, electricity, lightning. His natural scent was laced with his cologne, a sweet-and-spicy, musky scent, mixing powerfully with how he normally smelled. Maka found herself breathing deeply, drinking in his scent, so similar to the way he tasted, like sugar and ashes, a bittersweet contrast. Maka's eyes once again flickered to the beat-up playbook set off to the desk's side, then back up to the boy sitting beside her. The night suddenly seemed to have been a very long, tedious one, indeed. She leaned against the desk, and yawned. Kid looked up as he heard her, and his eyes flickered to the clock. One forty-seven in the morning, "It's late. I should take you home."

She stared up at him, and swayed a little, looking slightly punch-drunk, "'S just lack of oxygen." She clenched her eyes shut and yawned again, covering her mouth and trying hard not to look tired. Kid raised an eyebrow, "Really?" His warm baritone dripped with sarcasm, "And have I told you that I'm Johnny Depp's secret twin?"

"Oh, really?" She leaned towards him, her huge green eyes hazy, "That's interesting, 'cause you're so much _sexier_ than he is."

Kid stiffened a little as her small hands traveled up and cupped his face, "Maka, you need to go home."

"Oh, shush . . ." Maka leaned even closer to him, and Kid found himself surrounded by her honey-and-cocoa butter smell, "M—Maka, Liz and Patti are probably still awa—mmmpphh . . .uuuhhnnn . . ."

Her lips were supple silk underneath his, her small, lithe tongue soft and slick. She tasted like vanilla and honey, immeasurably sweet and delicious. Kid felt the book gently tugged from his hands, and her small, calloused fingers gently caressing his face, running down his neck. He pulled back, and found himself lost in the powerfully hypnotic aurora of those huge, innocent emerald eyes. He swallowed hard, "Maka, you really should go home."

"Stop pretending you dislike it."

"I—I'm not—I mean—I know we have an . . . affair . . . but now is not the time." Maka glared stubbornly, green eyes sparking bright. God, it was amazing what she was.

Courage, nobility, strength—all the good things that made a heart whole, "You're the one who involved me in the first place."

Kid's eyes shifted uncomfortably from hers, dropping to his lap, "I know . . ."

Her fingers hooked under his chin, so he was forced to look up at her, and he closed his eyes as she kissed him again. Her taste burst in his mouth, and he leaned farther forward, his hands moving to her hips as he kissed back harder. Her body was so soft and pliable under his hands, made of gentle, sloping curves and softly defined muscle, the perfect balance between soft and muscular. His hands, seemingly of their own volition, slipped under her blouse, skin soft like velvet against his palms. He could feel the slight definition of her compact little abdomen, a soft dip of musculature down the center of her stomach. Maka moved, never breaking the kiss, and settled into his lap, straddling him as she pressed her body closer to his. Kid moaned, the sound long and low and smooth, and his hands traveled still farther up. He heard Maka give a little squeak as he found her chest. He squeezed first one breast, then the other, reveling in how perfectly symmetrical and balanced her small, soft breasts were. A small smile was playing on his lips as he continued to kiss her, her high, sweet soprano moans of pleasure heaven on his ears as he worked her chest, kissing and touching in ways that he knew would turn her to putty in his hands.

Maka gasped as Kid's fingers made her even dizzier, "Kiddo-kun . . ." The murmur was soft, heavy and husky with bliss and sexual arousal. Kid chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in her chest, the soundwaves reverberating against her ribcage, "Maka-chan." It was a sweet little hiss, and it made her shiver. Kid chuckled again and kissed down her neck, his fingers raising heat against her skin, "Kiddo . . ." She paused for a long moment, eyes half closed as his lips and hands made her forget what she wanted to say next, then it came back to her, "I really like you. A lot."

The change was immediate; the young shinigami became tense, his hands moving away from her chest in favor of resting on Maka's ribcage. He had stopped kissing her neck, and his face moved up into her vision, level with hers as she was raised from sitting on his legs. Those gorgeous metallic-gold eyes were wide, pupils constricted in tension, "That's . . . Thank you, Maka." His hands pushed against her, and she could feel him withdrawing from her, his body recoiling, "I think I should take you home, now."

Her face tensed as well, in an expression of delicate hurt, "But—but—"

"It's late, anyway. Soul is probably worried."

"Soul knows I can take care of myself." She was irritated now, eyes narrowing as her eyes lightened to bright green with anger, "It's never been an issue before."

"Maka . . ." He sighed, rubbing a finger into his right temple, "You know you can't say things like that in this—this type of relationship."

"We've been in this 'relationship' for a month and a half, now."

"Yes. And I made it perfectly clear from the beginning that we cannot invest our hearts in this." He leaned forward, and softly cupped her cheek, his eyes soft, "You're a great friend, and—and a great . . . uummm . . ."

"A great what? Fuck-buddy?"

He flinched visibly at the callous word, and his hand dropped from her face, "Of course not. We have something more than friendship. I know that, Maka. But . . ."

"We can't _be_ more." Her voice held a fragile edge, threatening either a possible tantrum or tears, he couldn't let which, "Then why did you initiate this in the first place?"

"You agreed to it. And you're not obligated to me—you can have anyone else you choose. I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Her head sank low, staring at her lap, almost touching her knees. Her voice was quiet, the syllables mumbled, "I don't wanna leave . . ."

"Then this is what you're stuck with." She didn't move as he placed a hand on her head, "I'm sorry. I wish I could offer you more."

"But why?"

"We've been over this, Maka."

"_Why_?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the exhalation fluttering her bangs, but still, she remained immobile, "Because I am not human. I'm shinigami—immortal. I'm to outlive you and everyone else I know, even Chichiue." Maka looked up at as she sensed him coming closer, to find him leaning past her. He grabbed something, and withdrew his hand, "Any relationship with me," he flumped something soft and square into her lap, "would only end in tragedy." The scythe meister looked down to find _Romeo and Juliet_ sitting between the pleated folds of her red-plaid skirt. A pair of hands at her hips gently lifting her and setting her back in her own chair, and the soft rustle of cloth and the scrape of his chair told her that Kid had stood, "Come on, time to go home." There was the shattering jingle of car keys as he pulled them out of his pocket and spun the key ring on his finger, as was his habit, "Let's go, Maka."

Silence. Kid turned and looked at her. She was still in that uncomfortable-looking hunch, the paperback book sitting neglected in her lap. He sighed again, and took a step closer to her, "We need to go, Maka-chan."

"Don't call me that!"

Kid flinched at the sharp knife of her voice, slicing into him. He reached out and his fingertips brushed her cheek. She slapped his hand away, "Don't you _dare_ give me tenderness when you deny me so much." She inhaled, a loud sharp gasp, "All you ever do is hurt me!"

Kid stuffed his hands in his pockets, figure relaxing casually, "Then leave me. If you don't like what I can give you, then leave." She was silent, but her chest was heaving, fists clenching and releasing in her lap. Kid turned again, and began to walk away, "If you're going to be stubborn and not leave, then put up with it. If you end up hurting yourself, I don't give a damn."

Kid expected her to get angry, for that hair-trigger spitfire temper to take over. He expected screaming, maybe hitting, a full-blown tantrum. Hell, he _wanted_ her to get angry with him, for putting her in this position in the first place. The young god stopped, and stood stock still as a soft mewling sound issued from behind him. He turned slowly and stiffly, to see her watching him. Those huge, beautiful velvet-green eyes he loved so much were flooded with tears, her hands fisted and pressed into her mouth as she shook with sobs. He immediately felt horrible, saying such cold things to her. He was trash, worthless, useless garbage, a callous pig. Kid walked back to her, pulling his hands from his pockets. He crouched to her level, and gently pulled at her thin wrists, so he could cup her face, "I don't deserve you. I would prefer if you found someone else." Maka shook her head and babbled something incoherent. Kid leaned farther forward to catch what she said, "What?"

"I—I—I think I . . . I think . . ." She hiccuped and gave a little sob, "I think I lo . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she suddenly shook her head, turning away from him.

Kid leaned farther forward, his face inches from hers, "What is it, Maka?" He had not understood the last syllable of the sentence, "You think you what?"

She shook her head, and shoved her face into her hands. Kid sighed. She was beyond reason now, distraught and too delirious to function comprehensively anymore. And it was his entire damned fault. He stood, and lifted her into his arms, holding her close as he gently carried her bridal-style out of the library. She must have been exhausted, because by the time he got out to the car, she was sleeping in his arms, her soft high-pitched breathing fluttering the hair by his right ear as she lolled against his shoulder. He fished for the keys in his pocket and managed to get the door unlocked with the auto-locks, and open it one-handed. He ever-so-gently laid her in the passenger seat, and leaned across her to recline the chair. He did so deftly, and fastened her seat belt, taking care to make sure Maka would be comfortable. The young shinigami paused, just staring at her beautiful little heart-shaped face. The bone structure was so fragile, frail looking—like she was a breakable little doll. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, her skin so soft.

He could feel all of the burden he held weighing on him—not just that of the child warrior he was and had been raised as, but as the future Shinigami-sama. The entire weight of the world was on him. He bowed his head over Maka, his face so close her breath blew back his hair. It was only at times like this, when no one was around to see or hear, that he would let the tears fall, and for every time he hurt Maka, he would whisper the mantra that plagued his feverish guillotine dreams and made his heart stumble.

"_I love you, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry, I love you . . ._"

* * *

The Book of Eibon was an ancient and fascinating thing—a magical item of great power and charisma. It showed him things. Told him the mysteries of the Universe. Enraptured him. Noah was paging through the scintillating text of Demon Gods, drinking in the magical images the Book poured forth from its pages, reveling in the ever-changing knowledge the Book drowned through, the killing for the blood of their enemies, just to taste it, sentencing those who stood before the Demon God to the deceased, the dark, screaming, drowning tension of the Kishin philosophy—the Holy disease. It was fascinating in its power, horrific in its pain, pleasurable in its demented glory. What a riveting force.

Noah turned a page, and found new knowledge had squirmed its way into the Book. His eyes widened as he scanned the contorting text, watched the rapid-fire moving images, tracing his hand over the strange glow of the letters, the burning pictures. Kishin Asura was on the move. He was migrating, stalking towards a powerful force, a large cache of soul energy. As Asura moved in his dark, slow way, Noah came upon the knowledge of this source of power—a school? He manipulated the letters on the page, trying to find out more. It was indeed a school—a school for witches. Powerful witches. It was a clan separate from Mabaa's; the Clan of the Magi. A secret society of witches, unknown to their world. And this school—Hogwarts, it was called—taught its youth population magic. Strange. No school existed for the Lost Clan. Noah turned the page yet again. This school radiated a powerful, inexorable soul signature—never had Noah seen such potent soul energy, and all in one place. The perfect meal for Kishin Asura. Noah grinned; it was just the powerboost the Kishin would need.

But how to access this power? It was heavily guarded, by many magical spells and incantations, and the school itself was ancient, possessing its own magic, a force all its own. Hmm. Reminded him of Shibusen. The mage sculpted the text under his hands, searching for some grant of access, some answers to this school's weaknesses. He found little—but there _was_ something. Another witch, part of Mabaa's clan. Noah closed his eyes, focusing. He murmured incantations over the book, hands moving and flowing over the now-roiling text, summoning. A shadow formed along the floor, seeping over the cobbled stone of the church, spreading out across. A dark figure formed, raising up from the pool of black, twisting and forming into a projection of a tall brunette woman, her violet eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked about the room, "Who's called me?"

Noah stood, "Me."

"Ah, Mage Noah." The woman's eyes narrowed as she smiled wide, her face becoming eerie, "Holder of the Book of Eibon. I've heard of your work."

"They call you the Snake Witch?"

An unnaturally flat, black, arrow-shaped tongue flickered from between her lips, "Yes."

"Asura is on the move. He is heading towards a school. That one populated by the Clan of the Magi."

"Hogwarts." The tongue withdrew with a soft hiss, and Medusa Gorgon put a finger to her chin in thought, "Asura is after Hogwarts. Interesting. And I suspect you have questions regarding this?"

"Yes. I would like to know the weaknesses of the school, and perhaps launch a joint attack. This powersource is of high value."

The tongue reappeared, and Medusa hissed softly as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Let's make a deal."

* * *

Soul Eater Evans whistled brightly as he flipped the bacon, his steady bronze hand deftly turning the strips with the spatula. He turned the stove down to let the eggs simmer, and wiped his hands off on a towel. He tossed it casually onto the counter, still whistling, and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. He knocked on one of the two doors, two raps as was routine. No answer after ten seconds, so he walked right in, as he continued to whistle cheerily. The Death Scythe's blond meister was curled up under the covers, her breathing steady. Maka didn't stir as Soul approached. Soul stopped whistling as he neared her bed, and ran a hand through his uneven, spiky white hair, "Maka, it's time to get up." She didn't move. Soul reached down and placed a hand on her arm, "Maka. Wake up." She stirred a bit, and threw an arm over her head. Soul poked her in the ribs, "Oi, Tiny Tits!!" She emitted a small squeak, and curled farther under the covers, "Go away, Soul."

"It's time for breakfast. We have our junior year assessment today, remember?"

"That's right!!" She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, "Oh, I forgot to study last night!! I was helping Kid!" Her hands smacked into her cheeks, and her mouth hung open in a wide "O." Soul chuckled; she was so cute; "You don't need to study the night before an exam, Angel-chan."

Maka scowled at her weapon, "And how much studying have you done, Soul?"

"The eggs look delicious, you know!"

Maka crossed her arms, and her scowl deepened, "You do realize that assessments are jointly graded this year? Your score will affect mine."

Soul grinned and ruffled her hair, "I'm just kidding. Tsubaki helped Black Star and I out all this week." Maka nodded, but that grimace was still affixed to her face. Soul bent to her level, his blood-red eyes locking on her green, "Angel-chan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing . . ." Her hand slipped automatically into his, betraying her need for comfort. Soul squeezed her hand gently and sat down on the bed, "What's up?"

Maka shrugged, "It's nothing." She wasn't gonna crack. Soul smirked, and leaned towards her, reaching up and softly stroking her hair back from her face, and he inhaled, **his light baritone filling the room (1)**, _"Tiny heart, stuck inside yourself/ When will you open up for me?/ I love you so, wanna meet you again/ Before one of us must go_."

Maka easily picked up the next part of the song, her pure soprano swelling around them, "_Your lips touched every . . . hand but mine/ In the shadows you shall find/ When will you get back to me, so we can rest?"_

Soul grinned—this was common between them, to burst into random song, and sang the next part against her in harmony, "_Tiny heart, you're not by yourself/ When will you recognize the beat?_" Maka placed her hand on Soul's chest, right over his heart,_ "Of my own heart, making your blood flow/ So that your chest can rise and fall."_

Soul grinned and laughed, and pulled on her hand, "C'mon, Angel-chan. Breakfast." Maka nodded, and got up out of bed. She followed him into the kitchen, where the delicious, mouthwatering aroma of cooking pancakes, bacon, and eggs washed over her. Maka's stomach growled loudly. Soul glanced at her over his shoulder, and smiled.

The small, soft sweet smile he saved just for her, "Hungry?" Maka nodded, and sat down at the table.

She watched her scythe as he puttered about the kitchen, grabbing up food and plates and whatnot. Sometime during Kid's imprisonment, Soul had fallen into the habit of doting on his meister. Maka had no idea why, but the tender nickname, the sweet way he would look at her; it had all started several months ago. At first, Maka had found it odd. He had always sung to her and she to him—it had become a routine within the first few days of their partnership. But all this indulgence was fairly new. She was used to it now, and figured it had to do with the dark time they were currently in. Soul was her best friend in the whole world, after all. Of course he would make an extra effort to help his Technician feel better.

Soul set a plate before Maka, "Here you go."

"Thank you for the meal." Maka immediately dug in, ravenous as ever. Soul passed by her as he went to grab his plate. On his way back, he stopped behind Maka's chair, staring at her left ear. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and brushed her ashy, fair hair aside, staring at the pale skin behind, marred by a red mark, "Maka, what's this?"

Her hand slapped to her ear, "It's nothing. It's a rash."

Soul raised an eyebrow, and moved the soft, silky strands aside on the other side, as well, "A rash on _both_ sides, behind your ears? Perfectly even with each other?" Soul could have sworn the back of her neck turned a light shade of pink. His eyebrow threatened to disappear into his hairline, "Maka, is there something you're not telling me?"

Maka stayed quiet, focusing on her food. Kid had made it clear that he did not want anyone to know of their affair. It was for the sake of their reputations, as well as the fact that Shinigami-sama wanted Kid to focus solely on his studies at the moment. Soul's hand moved to brush against the spot where Kid had left the love-bite, "Maka?"

"I told you, it's a rash." She stood abruptly, "I'm full." The scythe meister exited the kitchen. Soul grabbed her arm, but she wrenched it away.

"Maka!"

In her bedroom, the young Technician stared at herself in the full-length mirror. She was dressed impeccably in her Spartoi uniform. She turned, staring at the crisp white dress shirt, with the sailor-style blue overlay of cloth, and the red scarf, tied neatly. She sighed, and tugged at a pigtail, and turned further, staring at her long, slender legs in the black leggings. She was top of the class, a good leader, and fierce and sexy, apparently, according to Death the Kid. Did Kid really only want her as . . . whatever they were? He always treated her so gently, and they were obviously romantically involved. Just not in a relationship. She released a growl of frustration and snatched up her black satchel. To hell with this right now; she had a test to ace!

The testing went as usual. Maka killed it, and Soul struggled through. Lunchtime rolled around, and the classroom emptied as students got up to stretch and socialize as they grabbed their lunches. Maka left her seat beside Soul and skipped down a row. Liz had already moved to talk to Patti on Kid's other side, so she occupied his weapon's seat, "Hey. How do you think you did?"

"I'll most likely receive one-hundred percent. My OCD hasn't been that bad, surprisingly. I've been stressed."

Maka grinned challengingly, "You have to beat me first."

"I know it." The shinigami chuckled, "How is Soul doing?"

"He better get at least a C, or I'm disowning him."

"Mmmm."

They fell silent, allowing the surrounding chatter to fill the gap between them. Maka stared at the pleats of her blue miniskirt, with white trimming, and twisted the hem around her fingers. Kid watched her carefully, noting the faint pink tinge on her cheeks, and the sweet way her head was tilted slightly to the left. It was all very cute. He sighed, and turned his gaze to his yellow number two pencil, twirling it idly between his fingers, "So. I found a possible lead on this curse."

Maka looked up awkwardly, her green eyes slightly guarded, "Really? You had time to check this morning?"

"No. I didn't sleep last night." He shrugged as Maka furrowed her brows, "I'm a God, I don't need much sleep."

"Oh. Well, what'd you find?"

"Something about Mage Curses. I'll show it to you, later."

"Oh. Okay." They fell silent again, and Maka returned to twisting her skirt. Kid began to doodle on his test booklet, sketching a small picture of an eye. He had developed the habit of drawing on anything nearby, ever since he had returned from his kidnapping. He had always been an artist, since he could first remember, but he had been drawing more than ever since he had returned. He had noticed the way his imprisonment had affected everybody. No one ever seemed to ask him about it, or was careful to mention it. As though they were afraid he were permanently traumatized or something. He snorted. What a ridiculous thought—he was perfectly fine. Maka had looked up when he snorted, and she bit her lip anxiously, her hands twisting harder into her skirt.

"Why did you stay up all night?" She finally asked.

"I could not sleep." He darkened in the pupil of the eye he was drawing, shading it evenly and precisely.

"Oh. Why not?"

"That's my business."

Maka sighed and rolled her eyes. He could be such a jerk, sometimes. She changed the subject, "When are physical assessments?"

"This Saturday. I think I'm fighting you, according to what Chichiue told me."

"Then I'll be sure to kick your ass."

"I look forward to it."

Maka allowed herself a small smile. And sometimes, he made her laugh. She looked up as she felt a hand drop on her shoulder, "What the hell do you want, Soul?"

"What, you're not just happy to see me?"

"I'm stuck with you all the time, why would I be?"

"Aw, it's why you love me." Soul joked, taking a seat beside Maka, "Oi, Kid. How'd you do on the test?"

"Perfectly." Kid looked up, and smiled gently at Soul, "If Maka kicks you out of the house for failing, you're welcome to come live with me."

Soul chuckled, "Thanks." He leaned across Maka to see Kid's sketch, "That's really good."

"Thank you." Kid flipped the pencil and began adding highlights with the eraser, a look of intent focus on his face.

Soul relaxed and watched the shinigami. He released a quiet sigh. His eyes traced slowly over Kid's delicate features, drinking in for the millionth time the beautiful, slanted golden eyes, the refined, straight nose, the full, luscious, pale-pink lips, his soft, oval face-shape. Soul dropped his gaze as Kid looked up, probably feeling Soul's stare. Maka and Black Star were the only two who knew thus far of Soul's bisexuality. He was nervous of letting his other friends know. Particularly Kid. Then Soul's crush would likely become more obvious than it probably already was. His crush on Maka was already pretty blatant—it was a wonder she didn't suspect. She had asked him several times about his sudden attention to her during Kid's absence and thereafter, but he had managed to avoid any real confrontation. Maka knew not to push.

"Well, I'm hungry, so I'm going now." Maka and Soul both looked up as Kid stood.

"Okay. We can come, too." Maka reached for Soul's hand, slipping it easily into his. It still amazed the demon weapon, how easily their hands fit together. He could hear the faint, melodic pre-Resonance hum that always reverberated between them. It sang with each touch, each brush of skin on skin. It had always been there, from the first moment they shook hands, familiar in its presence, and was a testament to the perfect Resonance Soul and Maka shared.

He felt a tug, "C'mon, Soul, quit spacing!"

Maka was scowling at him as she pulled on his hand, and the scythe smiled, "Sorry." He walked, just idly allowing her to guide him wherever. He would follow this petite, stubborn girl anywhere she took him.

"Jeez, you're so brain-dead half the time."

"Shut up, flat-chest."

"MAKA CHOP!!"

"AGH! That _hurts!!"_

"No shit, Sherlock." She pulled on him harder, and they broke into a run. Their hands never separated.

Soul couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Harry sighed as he stared up at the all-too-familiar front of number four, Privet Drive. The front lawn was as spotlessly impeccable as ever; the green velvet of grass was serene and smooth and cool. The brown and tan house was lit softly from within by artificial yellow light, and he could hear the television murmuring softly from the open living room window. The hydrangeas in the flowerbed lining the front of the house were growing beautifully, the fluffy, bright purple, blue and pink blossoms bright splashes of color against the neutrally-colored house. It was falling to dusk, and the chirping music of crickets filled the dry evening air. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes to the sky, painted with dark purple and blue framed by fiery red and orange, and allowed his tensed shoulders to relax, "Let's get this over with."

"Right, mate. McGonagall did say she'd send a note through muggle post."

The young wizard rolled his eyes sardonically to his friend, "Doesn't mean they'll be happy with the arrangement."

Ron shrugged and began walking up the lawn, "Then let's go." Harry executed a sullen sigh, and followed the russet-haired boy over the lawn, and up to the ample porch. He hesitated for a moment, his teeth digging into his lower lip, before he raised a fist, and knocked on the brown-oak front door.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was looking over that year's student list for the new class. It looked like a large turnout this year; it would be one of the largest classes Hogwarts had had in about a decade. This made Minerva smile, and she felt relief. It was good to be at peace, after such a long, arduous, and dark time. The Wizarding World needed its peace. A knock at the door alerted the experienced witch, "Enter." The door opened, and the new deputy Headmaster, Filius Flitwick appeared. The small man strode into the office quickly, and seemed to be on edge, "Minerva, there's something you should see." He squeaked anxiously, "A strange symbol has appeared in the sky!"

"Strange symbol?" Asked the Headmistress, dark thoughts of skulls with snakes for tongues and forbidden incantations entering her mind, "What is it?"

"I am not sure."

Minerva stood, and walked to the narrow window of the circular office. She leaned against the glass, and looked out at the darkening evening sky, and gasped. Indeed, an unnatural insignia had appeared in the sky—it was fiery red, and seemed to ripple and pulse like water. Three objects that appeared as almond-shaped, slanted eyes turned sideways, with darkened, perfectly round pupils, arranged in a half-circular design. It seemed to be inscribed with a crimson, smoky substance, much like the Dark Mark. It writhed and pulsed like some giant, ugly, mutated heart, and seemed to radiate a wild, uncontrolled aura; it was something dark, something that beckoned with black temptation, something mad.

Minerva shivered, "What _is_ that thing?"

* * *

The God of Death turned away from his mirror, the workable mechanics in his mask that allowed facial expression scrunched up in anxiety. This was bad. This was _horrible._ Shinigami-sama wiped the mirror clear of its present image of the Kishin symbol writhing over the spindly citadels of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The shinigami turned his black, voided gaze on his weapon, "Spirit-kun. Asura may be targeting something new." The Death Scythe received the report with a short, strangled gasp, and moved towards his meister, "What is he targeting?"

"A school full of the Clan of the Magi. Powerful witches, but good." Shinigami turned away from his weapon, and the image was summoned again at a mere thought, projecting a live feed over the smooth, cool glass of the Scottish countryside, the Kishin's symbol, and the ancient castle that resided there.

"He might attack the area. Call Stein-kun, Sid-kun, and all graduated Death Scythes residing here. We must keep an eye on this."

* * *

"Eruka, I'm contacting you through the snakes inside your body. We've been preparing for the whole week."

"Yes, today is the day."

"Have you assembled everyone and everything?"

"Yes, Medusa-sama."

"Mm-hmm-hmm. Good. Launch the attack at dawn."

* * *

Dawn broke beautifully over the ancient castle. Grey faded to light gold, then to fiery, crisp yellow and rose. Birdsong could be heard throughout the Hogwarts grounds as the school stirred for the day in preparation for the coming students. Term started in a mere two days, and it was important that the castle be ready to accommodate them. Almost everything was in order, and only a few more finishing touches were needed. The castle was all busy hustle and bustle as it arose, and no one noticed the frog and mice that entered through the front iron gates. It was Eruka's mission to plant her egg bombs, and clear the way for Free and Noah's minions. This was very much like the revival of the Kishin, and she wondered if it would be successful. It would be a mass-massacre of the entire population, their orders were to kill until most or all were dead. An hour passed. Eruka was successful in planting her bombs, and retreated to wait for Medusa's signal to allow her co-attackers access.

Eruka was becoming bored, and perked up immediately as she heard Medusa, "Eruka. It's time."

"Right!"

Minerva McGonagall knew beyond a doubt that bombs were muggle devices. So when a group of them were set off simultaneously throughout the Hogwarts grounds, all hell broke loose. She was shocked when she found her own skin melting off her bones, and the Professor stared at her limbs in shock. A wild, uncontrollable force surrounded her, a presence that was unbridled, wild, beyond any control. Minerva felt herself being sucked away, like the taxing inhalation of a Dementor, and engulfed by this horrid force. She screamed into the roiling storm, and watched the people she loved die again and again.

Suddenly, everything was fine. What . . .? Minerva realized she was on the ground, and quickly arose and brushed herself off. The sounds of battle could be heard in the castle. What was happening? She rushed to the door and wrenched it open, hurrying downstairs with her wand ready. She was immediately met with Horace Slughorn fighting off a blonde man with bright blue eyes. The man seemed to have . . . metal . . . installed in his wrists? She gasped in shock as a bright flash of white overtook the room, and the metal twisted and changed shape to become longer. Transfiguration? But how, without a wand? Horace sent a Stunner Justin's way. Justin ducked it and came in for counter attack. Horace hissed as he sent a stream of curses Justin's way, and gasped as he was knocked back by his opponent. The Head of Slytherin dug his wand tip into Justin's ribs, _"Bombarda!"_ Justin was blasted back, slammed against the wall, and slumped down. He choked on coughed up blood, and pulled his hand away from his side to find it stained crimson.

Minerva held a hand out to Horace, and pulled his bulk up, "What's going on?!"

"There's all these strange . . . creatures attacking the school!"

* * *

Shinigami-sama jumped as he heard an explosion emit from the mirror behind him. He turned, and his eyes narrowed as he watched a series of explosions break over Hogwarts. So it was being attacked, after all. Shinigami-sama turned to his Death Scythe.

"Spartoi is to report here, first thing when they arrive."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Medusa smiled as she watched the attack play out in her crystal ball. It looked to be a success; Hogwarts was caught completely off guard. She smiled as she watched Free send a particularly strong missile towards a group of battling witches. Noah nodded beside her, "They were caught completely off guard."

"We'll be picking up souls soon enough."

* * *

Maka sighed idly as she looked over her notes for the test. It was junior assessments, day two, and she was beginning to get the test twitches. It came from being an active person and sitting still too long. At least the physical assessments were tomorrow. And she'd get to fight Kid. She sighed. Maybe she could release some of her frustrations on him . . . show him how he made her feel. She scowled at her notes, and sighed again. Maybe, just maybe, if she talked to him again . . .

"Maka Albarn, Soul Eater Evans." Stein's voice pulled her from her reverie, "Black Star, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, Death the Kid, Thompson sisters, you're all to report to Shinigami-sama right away. Get going."

Maka furrowed her brows curiously. What could be going on? Maka and Soul both arose and leaped over the table. Black Star, Tsubaki, and the Thompsons did the same as Kid lazily walked out from between the rows and down the steps. Just like him. Soul smirked; he found the fact that Kid had to appear dignified at all times quite cute. Certainly worth teasing him about, just to see the attractive boy blush. Kid looked rather worn down, his walk was dogged, despite his attempt to appear fine. Soul furrowed his brows in concern, and fell into step beside her friend, "You okay?"

"Hmm? Yes, I'm fine."

"You look a bit tired." Soul said, reaching over and touching Kid gently on the shoulder. Soul quickly withdrew his hand as he heard the melodic hum that swelled between them. Pre-Resonance vibrations?

"I feel fine." Kid shrugged. Either he hadn't noticed the vibrations, or was ignoring it, "Why are you so concerned?"

Soul replaced his hand on Kid's shoulder, listening to the beautiful, level sound, "This curse seems to be wearing you out." Soul stated, giving Kid's shoulder a gentle squeeze. The hum increased an octave in volume. Soul noticed idly at the other boy and musician's hands; they were long and slender, but strong and deft, perfect for playing any number of instruments. It looked as though he would be a particularly good pianist or celloist. Kid blinked, "It seems we're able to Resonate, now. We are shinigami and Death Scythe."

"Oh. Yeah." Of course Kid wouldn't be interested in Soul as more than a friend. He would find no romantic connection here, Kid was obviously straight, "Well, we should see what your father wants."

"Yes."

The two boys followed their other friends into the Death Room. Shinigami-sama waited patiently for them. Behind him, the mirror projected a feed of a battle ensuing. It was taking place around a castle, located on a set of beautiful, extensive grounds. Maka peered curiously at the feed, wondering what was going on. Shinigami-sama bounced and waved his huge hands, "Wassup, everybody~! Something big is going on." He turned so his back was to them, gazing into the mirror, "There is another clan of witches, the Clan of the Magi."

Maka tilted her head curiously, "There's another witch clan?"

"Yes, Maka-chan. They live under a Statute of Secrecy separate from the rest of the world. This is for obvious reasons, as we persecute the Lost Clan. The Clan of the Magi channel their magic through wands, and do not have the same destructive instinct or susceptibility to sanity that the Lost Clan does."

"Chichiue, why does this concern us?" Kid asked.

"Because." He turned back to face them, gesturing to the mirror, "Shibusen's enemies are attacking their school."

"I see." Kid's gold eyes were turned different colors by the light of the explosions and streams of strange light whipping across the mirror surface.

Maka raised her hand, "Question. Why are they attacking the Magi's school?"

"They give off a very huge soul signature. One of the most potent reserves of soul energy in the world. Asura is after it." He held up a finger, "And, it is the Magi's youth population of that part of Europe that live there. We must protect the children. You mission is to protect the school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is located in Scotland. But, their new year does not start for another two days. Therefore, you will be meeting with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, at another location, and go to Hogwarts with them on the day term starts, as they are both prestigious students there."

"Alright." Soul agreed, "What about the attack against them going on now?"

"Look." The shinigami pointed at the mirror. Indeed, Hogwarts appeared to be winning, and Medusa's and Noah's forces were beginning to retreat.

Spirit approached the group, rummaging in the inner pocket of his jacket for something. He produced an envelope and handed it to Kid, "You're captain of this mission. Everyone's instructions, plane tickets and money is in here. Good luck."

Maka peered over as Kid pulled out the directions of the target city, "Where are we going? What address?"

Kid stared curiously at the city name, unusual to him. Little Whinging, now where was that?

"Number Four, Privet Drive."

* * *

Music:

1. Sell Your Soul _by Hollywood Undead_

URL: http: //www. youtube. com /watch? v= Lc9RyX8yP28

2. Tiny Heart _by Flyleaf_

URL: http: //www. youtube .com /watch ?v= xb4MNmBFKoA

* * *

**A/N:** Yep. You're not gonna get away from me at the end, either. XD I promise this is the only chapter where I'll have an uber-long A/N in the beginning.

Much thanks to Na-chan, for doing a great job, like always. It helps to have fresh pair of eyes, and you really helped with those lyrics, which is important for this fic. A COOKIE FOR YOU!! *gives Nadia cookie*

Oh, Kiddo-kun. He's such a jerk . . . I wanna grab him, shake 'im till his teeth rattle and tell him to STOP BEING AN IDIOT!! *huff* If you're wondering about the ambiguous nature of his and Maka's relationship, and how it came to be, don't worry. That's all going to be revealed later, through dialogue and thoughts of characters and whatnot. Basically, it'll all come out in the end.

And KidxSoul fluffy, YAY!! I look forward to writing a yaoi romance for the first time. :3

Next chapter is aweshomely exciting!! It will involve TONS AND TONS of KiSo fluffy, SO MUCH THAT YOU MIGHT POSSIBLY DROWN IN IT!!! XD XD As well as the main Soul Eater and Harry Potter casts merging and interacting for the first time, more KidxMaka angsts (YAY), and Kid's love affair with a cherry red Jaguar~

Tell me what you all thought of this pilot chapter, please!! PLEASE!!

**YOU WANT TO CLICK IT. I KNOW YOU DO, IT'S CALLING YOU. **

**YOU. WANT. TO. CLICK. IT.**

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	2. Track 2: Bring Me to Life

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

All original Harry Potter characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 1997 by J.K. Rowling. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Harry Potter series.

_Resonating Between the Notes_ Story copyright (c) 2010 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

ALL MUSICAL LYRICS AND AUDIO TRACKS copyright (c) to respective owners. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics or audio tracks

* * *

**A/N:** FINALLY. AFTER MONTHS AND MONTHS I HAVE UPDATED! Whoooo! I apologize for the long delay. School is a bitch, but I'm done now~! Still, with 10,000+ words per chapter, it makes it hard to write fast, even if it is all planned out.

Yes, I KNOW Evanescence is an emo band, and that _Bring Me to Life_ is an overused song. Shush. You'll see why I chose it at the end.

I highly suggest that if you didn't listen as you read last time, you do this time around. Only one song actually has lyrics, all the rest are classical pieces, and my writing certainly didn't do the lovely music justice.

You all know the drill.

Read, listen, have fun, and ROCK ON FOREVER! \M/ ^^ \M/

* * *

When music is to appear in context of the chapter, you will have a cue to start it. This cue is the **prose highlighted in bold, followed by a number in parentheses (1)** and this is your signal to start the song. The number in parentheses corresponds with_** BOTH**_ the Resonating Between the Notes FST, and the playlist I give you below. If it says (1), that song is first up in the setlist.

1. My Immortal (piano piece) _by Scott D. Davis_  
URL: http: /www .youtube .com /watch? v=6TNg A1Jb_C0

2. The Diary of Jane (acoustic) _by Breaking Benjamin_  
URL: http: /www .youtube. com /watch? v=mbqi 7SGFyC8

3. Jack and Sally Montage _by the Vitamin String Quartet_  
URL: http: /www. youtube. com /watch? v=yhq87C WN3iY

4. Farewell _by Apocalyptica_  
URL: http: /www. youtube. com /watch v=zaLoB dqcvVY

Resonating Between the Notes FST: http: / www. youtube. com /view_ play_ list? p=0DBEC 2D2B0147 18B&search _query= resonating+ between+the +notes+ full+ soundtrack +playlist

* * *

_**Track 1**_

_**Soul, Maka, and Kid**_**  
**

**Bring Me To Life**  
by_  
Evanescence_

Youtube Link:

(Don't forget to take out ALL the spaces, so this will work)

http: /www. youtube. com /watch? v=5A9x h5HQuNc

Hooowww  
can you see  
into my eyes  
like open doors?  
Leading you down  
into my core  
where I've become  
so nu-umb.

Without a  
sooouuuul,  
my spirit's sleeping

somewhere cold;  
until you find it there and  
leeeaaaad  
it  
baaack  
home.

_Wake me up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_I can't wake up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_SAVE ME!  
_Call my name  
and save me  
from the dark!  
_Wake me up!  
_Bid my blood to run!  
_I can't wake up!  
_Before I come undone!  
_SAVE ME!  
_Save me from  
the nothing  
I've become.

Nooowww  
that I  
knooowww  
what I'm without,  
you can't just leave me-ee.  
Breeeeaaathe  
into me and  
make me reeeaaal.  
Bring me  
to life  
. . .

_Wake me up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_I can't wake up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_SAVE ME!  
_Call my name  
and save me  
from the dark!  
_Wake me up!  
_Bid my blood to run!  
_I can't wake up!  
_Before I come undone!  
_SAVE ME!_  
Save me from  
the nothing  
I've becooooome!

Bring me to liiife.

_I've been living a lie;  
there's nothing inside . . .  
_

Bring me to liiife.

Froooooooozen  
inside,

without your touch,  
without your loo-oove,  
darling.

Ooo-ooonly  
yoouuu  
are the life  
among the  
DEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAD!

_All this time,  
I can't believe  
I couldn't see.  
Kept in the dark,  
but you were there in front of me!  
_

I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems.

**Got to open my eyes to  
everythiiiinnnnggg!**

_Without a thought,  
without a voice,  
without a soul.  
_

_Don't let me die here!__TheRe MuSt bE sOmeThIng mOoOOre_

Bring me to liiiife!

_Wake me up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_I can't wake up!  
_Wake me up inside . . .  
_SAVE ME!  
_Call my name  
and save me  
from the dark!  
_Wake me up!  
_Bid my blood to run!  
_I can't wake up!  
_Before I come undone!  
_SAVE ME!  
_Save me from  
the nothing  
I've become.

Bring me to liiiiiiife . . .

_I've been living a lie!  
ThErE's noThInG inSIIIDE!  
_

Bring me to

LIIII IIIII IIIIIIII IIIIIIIII IIIIIIFE!

(Fading Instrumental)

Airports were a pain. _Officially_, a pain. Maka decided this as she hauled her satchel, which was her designated carry-on, down yet another escalator, trying to keep up with the longer strides of Kid and Soul. She sighed and rolled her eyes, and yanked the satchel as it once _again_ was caught on the edge of the escalator as she stepped off. She growled at the offending bag, and saw Tsubaki promptly sweatdrop behind her. Maka smiled at her friend sheepishly, and hurried after Kid and Soul, who seemed to be the fastest walkers in the group. They were currently in the McCarran International Airport, in Las Vegas. Death City did not have their own airport, so Shibusen was dependent on Las Vegas in order to export its students. The two cities were only about an hour apart, so it was quite convenient.

"YOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO! I AM THE GREAT BLACK STAR! I AM THE MAN WHO WI—"

Soul hit the ninja meister upside the head with his school satchel, "Can it, idiot! God . . . if I have to put up with this for twenty hours . . ."

"B—Black Star . . ." Tsubaki rushed after her partner, who was currently lying languid on the floor, and helped him up, "Don't overexert yourself." She stated firmly.

Patti chuckled, as Maka once again rolled her eyes. She caught up to Soul and Kid, who were both now stopped, and poked her weapon in the back, "Oi, Death Scythe, think you could help me with some of this luggage?"

"I have my own." He turned away noncommittally, and watched as Tsubaki helped Black Star resume carrying his share of their carry-ons. Maka sighed, annoyed and exasperated, and decided to put on a childish show of pouting, which Soul ignored. Patti suddenly gasped, and grabbed Kid's arm, pointing somewhere off to the left.

"Hey, hey, Kiddo! Look, it's a giraffe!" She was pointing out a toy display nearby in one of those airport stores, which featured a giant stuffed giraffe as its mainstay. Kid sighed.

"No."

"Awww, pwease?"

"No." He glanced at his watch, "It's almost eight, we need to get a move-on."

The shinigami ignored his weapon's protests as the group again moved forward. After several more escalators, Soul and Black Star both dashing at break-neck runs down half the moving walkways, and their subsequent punishments by their female partners, the seven teenagers arrived at the airport security. It was already a plethora of chaotic travelers crowding around in the lines and through the security runs themselves. Children cried. Business men and women stood by and tried not to look hassled. Families argued.

The Shibusen students fell into line behind a refined-looking elder man, who was obviously traveling for business. His grey hair was slicked back, and he carried a handsome black laptop satchel over his left shoulder. He kept staring at the strange-looking young people behind him. Teenagers and their fashions these days, honestly . . .

Kid reached into his pocket, and pulled out the envelope that contained all the information for their mission. He pulled out six pieces of heavy paper, and handed them around. Everyone accepted their boarding passes as Kid handed them out, and pulled out their Shibusen student ID's, as well. Maka studied Kid's face carefully as she accepted her plane ticket, "D'you think this school is anything like Shibusen?"

"I don't know." Kid startled as his hand brushed against Soul's as the weapon took his ticket. He was still unused to the pre-Resonance hum that the Death Scythe and the shinigami had discovered between them the previous day. Soul smiled gently at the young Prince, and Kid found that he was suddenly very interested in the stitching along his cuff. It was not symmetrical, he noted. He'll have to fix that later.

"How long is the layover in . . . Detroit, is it?" Liz asked.

"Four hours, which is honestly not bad." Maka stated.

"But it's four hours to Detroit, four hour layover, then seven to London. Ugh." Soul tilted his head up to the ceiling, allowing his body to sag backwards, "Good thing we're flying first class. I wanna travel with Kiddo more often." He looked up as the line moved forward, and shuffled along with everyone else. The man in front of them had his pass scanned, and the teenagers were able to walk up the security guard sitting at the initial plinth, with a scanner in hand. Kid walked up and smiled politely, "Hello." He presented his boarding pass and school ID. The security guard stared for a moment at Kid's unusual sanzu lines, then scanned the past, and stared suspiciously at his ID, holding it up to the light as though looking for a watermark, "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Okay. You can go right on through. Students for Shibusen are that way." He handed Kid back his ID and ticket, and directed him to the right spot. Kid entered the area where their carry-ons had to be put through the x-rays, and people had to go through the metal detectors. He sighed as he pulled off his school bag, and set it in a bin, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his black-and-white iPod, which he dropped onto his satchel. He fixed the articles so they laid nicely, and pushed it forward, and pulled out a second grey bin, and pulled off his white Spartoi jacket, his white belt, and white shoes, and stuck them all in that bin. Dressed in just his white dress shirt, black tie, and blue pants, he pushed the bins along. He was startled as a pair of hands slammed a bin down beside him. He looked up to see Maka dumping her black satchel in the bin, followed by her red, white, and blue trenchcoat. Kid rolled his eyes, and grabbed the bin, arranging the content neatly, "They can't scan it if it's all jumbled up." Maka rolled her eyes as she leaned against the roller table with her hand, as she yanked off her left boot with her right hand.

"I'm sure they can see through it just fine." She tossed her boot into the bin, and lifted her other foot to pull off the right. Kid sighed, and fixed her shoes, before pushing the three bins forward. He watched in fascination as she also pulled off her school uniform top, to reveal a white tank top underneath. Kid felt his face heat up slightly, but allowed his eyes to trace over her petite from, "You don't have to strip down that far." She indicated the silver skull charms at the ends of the blue coif around the neck of the top.

"Yes I do, it has metal, it'll set the detector off and cause us more waiting time."

Kid shrugged, "I guess." As an afterthought, he pulled off his silver skull rings, and placed them in the bin that Soul was now loading with his school satchel and Maka's top. The scythe meister paused for a moment, before reaching under the waistband of her skirt. Kid wondered what in the hell she was doing and why she had to be so tempting, until she pulled a chord up from around her waist, on which a sheathed dagger was attached. She stared at it.

"I suppose I shouldn't be taking this on the plane."

"What do have that for?" Soul asked.

"In case I get separated from you—I can defend myself. It was a gift from Mama."

"I'll take it." Kid offered, "I'll get a bypass, as Royalty."

"Oh, yeah." Maka handed over the dagger, and pushed the bin filled with her top and Soul's bag through. Kid finally turned and walked forward, pausing for a few people before him to go through the detector. The security guard stopped him just before he went through the detector, "You can't bring ordinary weapons through here, only demon weapons are permitted." Kid pulled out his school ID once again, and flashed the back, where the Death family insignia was inscribed.

"I have permission from my Chichiue, Shinigami-sama."

The guard took the ID and stared for a moment, flipping it over to read Kid's student information, "I see. Ah, you have authority as a two-star meister, anyhow." Kid smiled as the guard returned his ID to him. He went through the detector, which was set off by Maka's dagger. Immediately, several guards walked up to him, ready to scan him as they eyed the weapon in his ands, but the guard from beyond shook his head, "He's Shinigami-sama's son he's clear!" The guards backed off, and Kid went to retrieve his items as they emerged from the x-ray.

Maka came through when Kid was pulling his jacket again, and sighed and rolled her eyes as she watched Soul be stopped by the gaurds after passing through the detector, "We have a demon weapon. We'd like to see ID, please." There was raised security in the airlines on demon weapons, ever since there had been a terrorist scare in Detroit a few months ago. Soul grumbled and dug in his pocket for his ID, which he handed over. A female guard inspected it carefully, "Age, sixteen. Demon scythe—Death Scythe. Transform for us, please." Soul transformed, allowing himself to clatter to the ground. The guard stared at the red, black, white, and gold scythe, before nodding firmly, "You are clear. Go on through." Soul transformed back, and grabbed back his ID. He grit his teeth, a habit of his when he was annoyed, and tugged at his black tie.

"Security is just hell, lately."

"Indeed." Maka agreed, pulling her boots. Kid picked up his satchel and slung it over his shoulder, checking his watch again.

"It's ten until eight, we're gonna miss our flight."

Maka looked back to see the last of their group coming through, and hauled her bag onto her shoulder, "Let's go!"

* * *

Maka passed the time during the flight from Nevada to Michigan by watching random, crackish videos (_Stick Figures On Crack_ was her favorite) and AMV's from YouTube with Soul on his iPod touch, chatting with Patti, who sat next to Black Star and Tsubaki across the aisle from them, and playing word, hand and mind games with her weapon. They were on their tenth round of a clapping hand-game when the plane finally began to descend to land. Maka eagerly pressed her face to the window, staring outside at the blinding sun, lit up over am endless sae of fluffy white clouds, backed by a bright blue sky. She could already feel the pressure building in her ears, like something was being pressed against her eardrums, as the airplane began its descent.

Soul watched his partner fondly as she oohed and ahhed over the beauty of the sun, "It's been like that for the last four hours, you know." She turned and stuck out her tongue at him, then returned to staring out the window. The young Death Scythe chuckled. He found her particularly adorable at the moment, with her hair all mussed up with the strain of travel, and the disheveled way her white coat was draped over her lap. Her black school satchel was wedged between the bottom of her seat and the one before her, so her feet were propped up on top. He heard Maka gasp, and Soul leaned over. She scooched over so he could see. The demon scythe stared as the tiny toy city of Detroit came into view, the ground rushing up to meet them, almost like they'd crash.

They had successfully disembarked twenty minutes later, the seven teenagers dragging their luggage out of the terminal to the area where stores, food places, and travel centers were located. Kid stopped in the middle of the area, looking around, as his stomach growled loudly, "You guys hungry?"

"Yeah." Maka confirmed.

"I'm starvin.'" Black Star agreed. Kid grinned at the shorter boy, and felt a prickle. He raised his gaze to find Soul dropping his own eyes. Hmm, strange. The young shinigami turned away, and looked about again.  
"Where should we eat?"

"There's a Chili's over yonder." Liz suggested, pointing. Kid stared in the direction she had indicated. Maka bounced impatiently and childishly on her feet.

"I say we go there, it sounds good. I'm honestly too hungry to care where we go."

"Alright." Kid agreed.

"Think they'll be able to seat seven?" Soul asked.

Kid smirked, "I'll make them."

They approached the restaurant, and entered. They were greeted by the host, who Maka immediately decided she disliked, for some reason. He had ordinary brown hair, and a balding spot on top of his head. His eyes were small and beady, yet strangely penetrating. His nose was large and beak-like, and he seemed to stare down it at the seven young people, "How many?"

"Seven, please." Kid supplied.

"Alright." The host's gaze turned on Maka, his eyes surveying the teenage girl up and down for a moment, resting particularly on her pigtails and the childish way she stood with hands clasped behind her back and her mouth in a slight pout, "We have menus for children twelve and under." Maka scowled.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

* * *

After disembarking from Heathrow airport seven that morning, England time, they had caught up on sleep for a few hours, enjoying the luxurious suites Kid's money allowed them to rent, before setting out that late afternoon, around four, in order to rent a car. After a nice solid eight hours of sleep, and some good food, everyone was feeling refreshed after the long travel. The seven teenagers looked about in wonder as they entered the car rental lot. Kid was searching about intently, thinking about the type of car they would want to rent.

Soul stepped up beside him, "Aren't you too young to drive?"

Kid grinned, "That law only applies to humans. Not shinigami, like me."

"Really?" Soul arched an eyebrow, and moved on past him, "Well, curse law, then."

"It's how the laws are." He shrugged, "God does not follow the same petty human laws that others must. That's why the rulings of Chichiue are separate from the government."

"Makes sense." Soul agreed.

"Let's see . . ." Kid stepped forward, looking around at the various cars, "A large vehicle sounds reasonable." He walked up to a tan Ford Windstar minivan, "This seems sufficient."

Black Star snorted, "A _minivan_? Seriously?"

"It would seat all of us."

"Fffftt, why don't we go see what's in the sportscars section?" Black Star began walking in that direction. Kid rolled his eyes and followed, as did everyone else. They would still need a large vehicle. The young shinigami arched his eyebrows as he looked around, surveying the various types of cars. His eyes stopped on a row of 2010 Jaguar XKR convertibles, which were obviously among the newest and freshest selections in the lot. Kid walked over, and stood before the row.

"These looks nice."

Maka paused beside him, "Really? Don't those only seat like two people?"

"The new model seats four."

"And how do you know this?"

"I just do." He walked up beside a red Jag, and his face lit up as he placed a hand along the hood, running his hand over the curve of the metal, "I like this one." He moved to stare inside the window, surveying the interior. Everyone gawked. He didn't want to go for the black one? Hell, Death the Kid had _car lust_? The god looked up to see his friends staring, "What?"

"N—nothing!"

"Um . . ."

"Kid, have I ever told you that you're strange?"

"Gyahahaha, Kiddo fell in love with a car~!"

Kid scowled, and straightened up, "I think two of these will be fine. I shall call the clerk." The shinigami pulled out his cell phone, and quickly dialed the number. Within a few minutes, the clerk had arrived. He was a tall, blonde man named Hal, and smiled hugely when he saw the seven teenagers standing around some of the most expensive vehicles in the rental.

"So, what can I do for you?" His accent was heavily Scottish, softly lilting against their ears.

"We would like to rent two of these Jaguars. A red one and a black one, please."

"Alright, then."

They negotiated prices for a while, until both settled on a deal. It was decided that Kid would drive the red one, and Tsubaki the black one. As soon as the young god unlocked the car, Maka had dashed around to the passenger side, "I call shotgun!" Kid laughed, and got in beside her. He watched as Maka oohed and ahhed over the touchscreen system. Kid started the car, and immediately began playing with it. He found the GPS, and entered their designated address. Soul and Liz had climbed into the back, and were curled in on themselves. Jags did not offer much backseat space. Kid put it in drive, and barely touched the pedal. The car shot forward.

"_SHIT_, KID!" Liz clutched at her seat, terrorized, "Be _careful_!"

He laughed softly, "Relax." He skillfully guided it out of the lot, and saw in the rearview that Tsubaki was following. Black Star was grinning in the passenger, and looked to already be playing with the touch-screen perks. He smiled as they made their way to the driveway, and merged smoothly with traffic, "She drives like a dream." He murmured.

"Can we put on the radio?" Soul asked.

"Sure. Maka, there should be satellite radio?"

"Yes." She played around until she found it, and tuned it into the local Death City rock station. Currently, the latest Paramore was playing. Maka leaned back, relaxing into the seat, as the familiar song filled the vehicle. She could hear Soul softly singing along behind her, and turned to see him staring out the window, tapping his fingers in time to the music.

They would arrive in an hour.

* * *

Harry sighed as he pored over the _Daily Prophet_. Another attack on Hogwarts. Great. He had received an owl from McGonagall reporting that enforcements were arriving, from a place called the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Whatever that was . . . she had explained that it was similar to Hogwarts, but the students there were muggles. Harry wasn't quite sure how that worked, but he knew they would be arriving today.

"Are the muggles here yet?" Ron sat down on the couch beside his friend, and peeked over his shoulder.

"Has the doorbell rung?"

"No. But it's past five. You'd think they would be here. And I wanna know why the hell we're using muggles as a guard . . ."

"Apparently, they're _special_. According to McGonagall, at least."

Harry tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table, and sat back. It was getting late. They should be arriving, soon. His eyes wandered again to the photograph splashed across the front page of the _Prophet_, where it replayed an image of his stressed headmistress, standing before a damaged-looking table in the Great Hall. She appeared to be answering interviewers and reporters in the moving image.

"BOY!"

Harry jumped at the sharp voice of his uncle, "Yes?"

"There's a bloody couple of cars in our driveway! Nice ones. Who _are_ these freaks?"

Harry stood, just as the doorbell resonated throughout the house. Vernon beat him to the door, and answered it. He surveyed the strange, dark-haired boy, his eyes lingering on the slanted golden eyes, and three white lines the encircled the left side of his crown, "Hello. We're from Shibusen. Pleased to meet you." Vernon glared the boy down. The teenager glared back, "Is there a problem?"

"No. Don't mind my uncle."

Harry stepped forward, noting the sharp, clipped accent of the boy. American? The boy nodded, and smiled. Harry shooed his uncle away, so their guest could enter. He stared as seven people entered the house; these were the most unusual-looking muggles he'd ever seen. Following the dark boy, was a petite girl about her classmate's age. Her blonde hair was tied into two pigtails. Besdie her was a boy with white hair and dark red eyes. A boy with spiky blue hair, and three lovely elder girls were last. All her dressed in red, white and blue uniforms. Each seemed to be tailored to suit the individual students' tastes.

"Welcome. Er . . . we weren't expecting this many people."

"Bloody hell, you're all muggles?" Ron asked.

The dark-haired boy arched an eyebrow, "Muggles? We're Shibusen students. I'm Death the Kid, but most call me just Kid." He smiled and held out his hand. Hm, what an off name. Harry shook it, staring into the unusual gold eyes.

"Harry . . . Potter. Muggles are what we call non-magical people." Harry explained.

"Ah, I see." Death the Kid released his hand, and Harry beckoned the company farther into the house. Aunt Petunia scurried from the kitchen, and looked flustered as she laid eyes on the guests. Kid smiled at her, and bowed in classic Japanese fashion, "I am Death the Kid, pleased to meet you." Petunia, Harry, and Ron stared as he straightened back up, "I expect you are well?"

"Y—Yes . . . Harry, who are these people, again?"

"The guard for my school. Don't worry, they'll be gone with me tomorrow."

"R—right . . . well, I suppose room arrangements need to be made."

Soul stopped a bit behind Kid, and smiled. Petunia gasped and shrank back at the sight of his teeth, and harry and Ron again stared. His smile disappeared, "Uh, sorry. My teeth are odd, I know. It's because I'm a Demon Weapon. I don't bite, promise."

"Demon Weapon?" Harry turned with interest to the other boy.

Soul grinned, and held out his right arm. Harry jumped back, startled, as the arm dissolved into a stream of bright blue light. He watched in fascination as it reformed into a red-and black blade, "I'm a scythe." Soul supplied.

"I see . . ." Harry checked on his aunt, to see that she had escaped back to the kitchen.

"Is that transfiguration?" Ron asked, staring at the colorful blade. Soul shook his head, as his arm returned top flesh and bone.

"No. I don't even know what that is . . . huh. Guess you guys don't know about our school, either."

"Not really . . ." Harry agreed.

"Why don't we sit down and talk, then?" Kid suggested, "We've had lunch, so you don't have to worry about feeding us straightaway."

"Right." Harry checked back over his shoulder to see his aunt and uncle standing by the kitchen counter, tittering dn sneaking glances at the unusual company, "I think I'll make the tea. Make yourselves at home."

Ron beckoned them to the living room, "Come along." They all settled onto the couch and armchairs that the room provided. Maka looked around, staring at the huge, modern television dn stereo system. Her eyes moved to the electric fireplace, and then over to the photographs of the three Dursleys above the mantel. Her gaze finally settled on the coffee table, and stared at the moving image on the _Prophet._ She picked it up with interest, and began skimming the front page.

"So. We were told you're all from some sort of school?" Ron asked.

Kid nodded, "Yes. We're from the Shinigami Buki Shokunin Senom, or in English, the Death Weapon Meister Academy. We keep the peace against the supernatural darkness that leaks into the ordinary world. I'm the son of Shinigami-sama, or the Grim Reaper."

"Grim reaper, you say?" Harry came in from the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with tea for everyone. He set it on the coffee table and began handing it out, "How is that even possible? I never thought death was . . . it's not a _being_, is it?"

Kid arched an eyebrow, "I'm sitting before you, aren't I?" Harry sat down, cupping his chin in though, as Kid sipped his tea then continued, "Shinigami, or Death Gods, are a race of supernatural, long-lived creatures. Our lives span thousands of years, and we're the wardens responsible for guarding and passing on the immortal souls of living beings. Only one true Grim Reaper can exist at a time; offspring to inherit receive the sanzu, a series of three white lines in the hair that manifest as the development of the fledgling's power." Harry eyed the three white lines surrounding Kid's head.

"So, that means your powers are halfway developed?"  
"Correct. Though, it gets irritating, being asymmetrical . . ." Kid said, fingering his bangs anxiously.

"Right." Harry decided not to ask, "I overheard you explaining you school. What did you mean, 'supernatural darkness?'"

Maka looked up just then, "Pre-Kishin. Humans that have strayed off the path of purity through murder and heinous acts. They consume the souls of the innocent. It's a hideous transformation, and it's irreversible. They're punished by being pushed into nothingness—we destroy them by feeding them to our weapons."

"Oh . . ." A disgusted look crossed Ron's face, and Harry's dark eyebrows furrowed.

"So, what about you?" Maka asked curiously, "You're witches, right?"

"Wizards." Harry corrected automatically, "Hogwarts is a school for young witches and wizards to learn magic." He shrugged, "Simple as that."

Maka nodded, looking thoughtfully over the article she had just read, "So, out enemies have attacked your school. And we're here to guard it."

"Yes. Though, I'm not sure why. I mean, we can defend ourselves."

Kid arched an eyebrow, "Are you sure? We've been fighting Medusa the Snake Witch and her cohorts for a while, and we nearly defeated Noah the Mage a few months back. We know this enemy much better than you likely do."

Harry shrugged, "I guess . . ."

"H—Harry." The wizard looked up as his aunt scurried into the room, "We must make room arrangements."

"Alright." Harry stood, as the front door opened. Dudley entered the foyer, and peeked curiously in at the new company.

"Was' goin' on?" Dudley asked, his eyes falling to his cousin for an answer.

"Dudley, this is the guard that's coming to my school with me."  
"Oh. The ones who are—are—ordinary? They look cool."

Maka immediately stood, "Hi! I'm Maka, pleased to meet you!" She smiled and walked up to Dudley, holding out her hand. He smiled and took it, his eyes roaming her face as he shook it. Kid stood, and cleared his throat loudly as he noted Dudley's eyes wandering a bit farther than they should. Maka released his hand, and stepped away. Everyone introduced themselves once again, and it was at last time for room assignments.

"Alright." Petunia pointed to the three girls, "You three are here in the living room. The couch is a pullout, so you should all be comfortable." She turned and walked up the stairs in the foyer. The entire company followed, curious to see the rest of the house. Vernon followed out of sheer suspicion, and Dudley was curious about the girl with pigtails. She was cute.

"Ron, and . . . you." She pointed at Black Star, "You're both in the spare bedroom, which is right down the hall." She pointed, and "You two," She pointed at Kid and Soul, "are both in Harry's old room, which is now a music room."

Soul's face lit up, "Really?" He peeked into the indicated room, surveying it in fascination. His eyes roamed over the vinyl record collection, as well as gramophone. His eyes stopped at the grand piano. His mouth fell slightly open, and he walked up to it, amazed. He reached out a hand to touch it.

"Don't touch it, boy!" Soul jumped, and everyone stared at Vernon, "That thing was right expensive, it was."

Soul bit his lip, and rolled his shoulders in irritation, "I was just looking. It's a Vivaldi; I can't believe it." His voice was hushed, in awe, "These things are rare, as it's a small company in Italy. They only produce about two or three pianos every few years. This thing must've cost a fortune."

Harry arched an eyebrow, and Vernon appeared taken aback, "W—well, yes. Yes it did." His chest swelled with pride, "We got it on holiday, we did." Harry snorted. More like while they were in hiding.

"Ah." Soul walked a bit closer, "I play." His voice was still hushed.

"Well, don't touch it! I don't want you—"

"I would love to hear him play!" Maka protested, "Especially such a rare instrument—the sound must be amazing, if it's such a rare piano."

"It is." Soul supplied.

"Well, still. I don't want you ruining it, we had someone come and tune it for us, and you'll probably mess with it."

Soul arched an eyebrow, "I've been playing since I was five."

"No. Especially someone so freaky-looking. A right little _delinquent_!"

"I don't appreciate you addressing my friend that way." Kid's dark baritone voice cut across, "And I would love to hear Soul play. I don't understand what the problem is."

Vernon fell silent, glaring at the strange dark boy. Petunia shrugged, "It would be nice to see how well he plays. We need some use out of this piano."

"Fine."

Soul grinned, and sat down before the instrument. Carefully, tenderly, he lifted the key-cover. He plinked out a few notes. They resounded around the room; low, mellow, beautiful. Soul closed his eyes and played a scale, allowing the rich sound to fill the room. He paused again, allowing his fingers to rest on the keys, considering what he might play. His soft, full lips moved, as he recalled notes from his head. The room was silent, as everyone waited to see what the boy would play. At last, his eyes opened, and he began to play. **His fingers pressed against the keys (1).**

It was a slow, sweet melody, with a soft cadence. One note flowed flawlessly into the next, as the soft song played. Maka's eyes were closed, and she was smiling softly. She had never heard him play anything so soft, so tender. He held each chord just long enough for it to saturate their ears, before moving onto the next. One godly note poured out after the next. Maka opened her eyes as the song became fuller, sweet, mellow midtones filling the room. She watched as he played—his eyes were closed, and his feet pumped the sustenance pedals, allowing the piano to reverberate with sound. The melody softened again, resuming the slow, tender cadence it had begun with. It was mesmerizing and sweet. The notes grew fuller again, and she recognized the repetition of the melody from before. It changed again, the sound so seemingly tangible she swore she could reach out and touch it. The sound was still rich, but it was a variation of the base melody, tugging at her heart as it grew. It repeated three times, before the notes slowed down, and the last, sweet notes stroked the air. They lingered on the air, even after the music had ceased. Soul's fingers stayed on the keys, his eyes closed, as though he too never wanted it to end.

There was a long, awed, silence.

Then everyone burst into applause. Soul blushed as he at last tore himself away from the piano, curling his hands and settling them in his lap. Kid smiled, and walked closer to Soul, "That was incredible."

"Thanks." Soul shrugged.

"I've never heard that piece." Petunia said thoughtfully.

Soul's skin flushed deeper, "That's because I wrote it . . ."

"Oh! Well, you are a very talented pianist."

"Thank you."

"Alright, must not dilly-dally, it's time to start dinner." Petunia exited.

Maka looked up at Harry, "We have some strategy to discuss with you. I can go over it with you—I thought we could tell you what the weaknesses of the enemy are."

"Right. Sounds good." The exited, followed by Black Star, Tsubaki, and the Thompsons. Kid and Soul were left alone. The shinigami sat down the piano bench beside the scythe, and his hands ran over the keys. Soul watched him curiously.

"I play, too." Kid finally stated.

Soul arched an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yes. Piano was—is—one of my favorites."

Soul smiled, and scooched closer to Kid, inhaling the scent of Kid's cologne, "No wonder you wanted to hear me play, so much."

"Yes." Kid rested his hands against the keys. Soul observed them, again noting how delicate they were, how perfect they were built to play music. For some reason, he kept thinking Kid would make a good celloist. The slender pale hands pressed against the keys, created a chord. Kid's eyes closed, a look of pure ecstasy on his face, as he stroked the keys, drawing random chords from the piano as he tested its sound. Soul watched the shinigami intently. His heart was beating somewhere in his throat. He understood that he was seeing something incredibly rare, right here. Kid was normally so closed, allowing only a small amount of expression to ever cross his face. Here was a place where the young god didn't hold back, allowing his emotions to be naked, so that Soul could see them. At last, Kid stopped and opened his eyes, allowing them to fall on Soul.

"What should I play?" He asked. Soul just shrugged. Kid stared at the ebony and ivory keys, sculpted, full lips pursed in thought. He fingered out a few notes, drawing more chords, **before he fell into a melody Soul recognized (2).** It was dark, sad, tragic.

"You know this song?" He asked, surprised. Kid nodded, and his eyes closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks. Soul was even more surprised when the shinigami began to sing.

"_Oooohh-ooooohh-oohhhhh._

"_If I had to / I would put myself right beside you. / So let me ask, / would you like that? / Would you like that? / And I don't mind / if you say this love is the last time. / So now I'll ask, / do you like that? / Do you like that?_

"_Something's getting in the way. / Something's just about to break. / I will try to find my place / in the diary of Jane, / so tell me / how it should beeeeee._

"_Try to find out / what makes you tick, / 'cause I lay down / sore and sick. / Do you like that?/ Do you like that?/ And I don't mind / if you say this love / is the last time. / Just let me say, / that I like that. / I like that._

"_Something's getting in the way. / Something's just about to break. / I will try to find my place / in the diary of Jane. / As I burn another page, / as I look the other way, / I still try to find my place / in the diary of Jane. / So tell me / how it should beeeee._

"_Desperate, I will crawl / waiting for someone. / No looooong, / there's no looooong. / Die for anyone, / what have I beco-oome?_

"_Something's getting in the way. / Something's just about to break. / I will try to find my place / in the diary of Jane. / As I burn another page, / as I look the other way, / I still try to find my place / in the diary of Ja-aane._

"_Ooooooooohhhhh."_

The song ended on a last chord, and Kid's eyes opened again, staring at Soul, "Were you singing the backup?" Soul flushed and ducked his head, nodding sheepishly. Kid chuckled, and leaned towards Soul, "Hey, it's alright. It was good." Soul looked up again, and was aware of how close Kid was—he could taste the shinigami's bittersweet breath.

Kid's mind was on Maka and pain and that couple nights ago when they'd had that fight, and he sighed heavily. Howe perfectly that song fit. Every little subtle nuance he picked out from Maka, every tilt of her head, twist of her body—it all seemed to be offing him. She was angry with him, disappointed, frustrated, yet there was nothing he could do. He was a shinigami, she was a human girl. It would never work.

Soul's heart was somewhere in his throat again, and it felt closed up, even after singing. He couldn't help but wonder if he should lean closer, and close the gap between himself and Kid; simply to see what would happen. His black hair was so close, and he smelled succulent—Soul couldn't resist . . .

"We should see what the others are up to." Kid moved away, and Soul was left with his heart stuck in throat. The shinigami rose from the bench. He walked over to their luggage, which had lain forgotten in the room for some minutes, so caught up were they in the music. Kid dug through a sleek black bag, which had several compartments, before producing a sketchbook and a blue box. Soul watched curiously, wondering what the shinigami was going to draw. Hel sighed, and closed the piano cover, before he followed his male crush out of the music room.

Black Star, Ron, the Thompsons, and Harry were in the living room chatting. Tsubaki and Maka had moved to the kitchen, and were busy helping Petunia with the cooking. The brand new iHome was blaring with the radio—what was obviously the local classical station. Kid sat down at the table, and opened his sketchbook to a clean page. It was a newsprint, and Soul could see various drawings in charcoal as the book was paged through to blank one. Kid opened the blue box, and pulled out a few pieces of vine charcoal. He glanced up at the three cooking women, and began to sketch, his face intent with focus. Soul rested his chin in his hand, content to watch the shinigami draw. The scythe perked up as he heard the Irish DJ speak on the radio.

" . . . is great. Molohov is truly a contemporary master. Up nest one our set list is a rendition of Jack's and Sally's Montage, from Tim Burton's classic _The Nightmare Before Christmas_, as covered by the famous Vitamin String Quartet**. Have a listen (3).**"

Soul closed his eyes, as the familiar melody washed over the kitchen, quirky, refined, perfect. He opened his eyes to see Maka conducting poorly in time to the music with a wooden spoon. He laughed, as she turned around, and returned to stirring a pot, head bobbing in time the music. Kid had captured the movement in a gesture, and was now filling up the detail, accurately rendering her hair, her clothing, her smile, the huge green eyes lit up with wonder at the beautiful strings. Petunia turned just then, and spotted the messy charcoal covering Kid's hands.

"Don't use that at my table!" She brandished a wooden spoon at him.

"What?" Kid looked up, and arched an eyebrow, "I apologize. It is complete, though." He turned his sketchpad so she could see the completed picture of the three women cooking, Petunia in the middle with her back to the viewer, Maka to the right, conduction with the spoon, and Tsubaki off to the left, chopping vegetables. He had just begun sketching the background in around them. The muggle woman leaned forward, fascinated.

"That's quite an accurate drawing."

"Thank you."

"Is the Academy you kids attend a fine arts school?"

Kid chuckled, "No. It's a fighting school. But, we do have fine arts classes. I'm a young prince, though, thus I must learn the arts as much as martial arts and fighting, in order to be well rounded."

"I grew up in a musician family." Soul supplied.

"Ah. I see."

"Oi, Soul!" A wooden spoon smacked the table surface before the scythe, making him jump, "What notes is this song in?" Maka said, pointing to the radio. Soul smiled—Maka had been making increasing efforts in order to understand music, ever since the Envy chapter in the Book of Eibon. He wasn't surprised that she was picking it up well—his meister was smart.

"It's mostly in _keys_—"

"G minor, as it begins, then falls into B minor. It returns to G minor, and ends in C minor. It has a very dark tone, overall." There was a long silence as Maka, Soul, and Tsubaki all stared openly at Kid, "What?"

"Y—you can name notes by ear?" Soul was deeply impressed, he had not expected this.

"Yes. Can't you?"

"Well . . . yeah. But I had to learn it."

"As did I. I do best with cello, though."

"Really?"

Kid looked flustered for some reason, and ducked his head, "I used to play."

"Used to?"

"I quit. I—I didn't like it." Maka arched an eyebrow. She knew Kid was a huge fan of cello music—it was something they both enjoyed. It seemed odd he'd dislike playing, if he enjoyed the music itself . . .  
"I'd like to hear you play, sometime." The scythe meister smiled at the shinigami. He nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. Maka smiled at him, and Kid smiled back.

"Actually . . . here." He pulled his iPod from his pocket, and stood. Petunia set the iHome properly, sand Kid docked the device. He navigated to the proper song, "This is a recording, with multiple playbacks. I played all the parts, and it was mixed and put together." **He hit play (4).**

A single, beautiful cello opened the piece, playing one set, before another joined in harmony, repeating the same notes. The music paused, and set to a low, steady rhythm, deep, deep in the bass, as the full orchestra stared up, a higher cello played over the rhythm, a beautiful, slightly sinister melody. Soul closed his eyes, listening as the melody repeated. Twice, it repeated. The bass line vanished, as the single cello simply played, further chords adding backing, both lovely and dark. A repetition of twos once again. Soul felt his breath leave him as the notes grew fuller, sweet, high notes playing as a low drive kept rhythm backing, sounding almost like an electric guitar. The melody was infinitely sweet, moving, full of tenderness and emotion. He felt his chest swell, as the uplifting notes washed against his ears, _feeling_ the music.

The song changed again, the melody returning to its dark rhythm from before, and Soul noticed the way it possessed a subtle rock baseline—the backing drive sounded very like an electric guitar, though he knew it was a bass line made up of two or three cellos. It increased, the intensity building. It repeated twice once again, before building to a sweeter melody, building, building, as sweet notes wove over a low, bass drive, the entire effect edgy but sweet, an incredible contrast. It drew out into longer, fuller notes, as it flowed and ebbed, the same song repeated, as it built. It was pushing first soprano, a few times, already in the alto range. The notes softened, in sweet dimension, building, building, in intensity and sustenance, and it repeated—the bass drive returned again, as the music grew, grew, grew, the melody repeated eight times . . .

Soul opened his eyes as the notes burst into first soprano, and stared at Kid. It was exceedingly difficult to play bass instruments in that range, and took years of practice. The shinigami had to have been playing from the time he was young. The music was gorgeous, swelling and falling and growing, as the same melody from before repeated, it's grandeur so tangible one could almost touch it, before changing. Soul's mouth was an O as the notes lengthened, drawing out into long, beautiful chords in second soprano—it was even more difficult to hold these. Kid was looking embarrassed, but Soul couldn't help but stare. The music drew out, longer and longer, beautiful, godly chords holding themselves suspended on the kitchen's air, the spaces between them weaving together, as one flowed into the next. The volume began to weaken, charging down softly, and the song finally faded out.

"That was beautiful, Kid." Maka's voice was soft, as silence followed the music.

"Thank you."

Soul seemed to move again, returning to animation, as Kid's song had frozen him, "How old were you when you played that?"

"I was thirteen. But I had been playing since I was seven."

"Oh. Wow."

"Kid-kun is amazing!" Tsubaki smiled at him, and the shinigami smiled back. Petunia was beaming.

"How much talent you all have! Well, dinner is ready. We should—" Both meister turned in the direction of the front door. They were perfectly alert, on tenterhooks.

"You felt it too?" Maka asked.

"Yes. Pre-Kishin . . . three of them. Goddammit."

Soul stood anxiously, as Petunia looked between the three of them, "Wh—what going on?"

"Should have known the soul signature here would be like a beacon. Damn!" Maka took Soul's hand, like they were a couple, and joined the others in the living room. Black Star was also on alert, having sensed the loud wavelengths with what little Perception he had. Dudley and Vernon had since joined; everyone but the Shibusen students were lost on what was going on. Harry and Ron were greatly confused—there seemed to be some sort of enemy approaching. Harry walked up next to Maka, who was standing at front door, holding Soul's hand.

"What's going on?"

"Those forces of darkness we mentioned? They're coming." Her hand holding Soul's tightened around his, as her other reached into her skirt pocket, pulling out a pair of white gloves. Harry watched her pull them on, as Vernon scooted past them.

"Alright, alight, boy! I'll let you all out!" Kid was right behind him, Liz and Patti pressing close behind their meister.

"Only when I tell you." Kid commanded.

"YAHOO! Three of 'em! This'll be good!"

The three meisters could feel the monsters fast approaching. Maka could literally see them slinking up the street, stalking ever closer towards the delicious prey that were the souls within Number 4. Everyone jumped as a loud, horrifying growl resounded from beyond the door. Pre-kishin right outside the door. It could be felt. The three meisters fell into fighting stances, as the weapons tensed, ready to transform. Vernon looked with wide eyes back at Kid, looking for authority in this situation of distress. The shinigami nodded. The mechanism turned over in the tumbler. The click was a loud crack.

The door swung open.

"SOUL!" A flash of blue light, and a wicked-looking scythe was in Maka's hand.

"Liz, Patti!" Dudley oggled as Kid taught identical twin pistols _upside down_.

"TSUBAKI! FIRST KATAS!"

"YES!" The chain rattled loudly. Black Star caught her.

Five pairs of eyes virgin to pre-Kishin turned. Three off the creatures were stalking towards the meisters, who had all fallen into fighting stances. The largest resembled a manticore—its shark-like teeth gnashed in the humanistic face, eyes dulled with madness, as it advanced forward on six segmented legs, poison-barb tail held at the ready in order to deliver lethal stings. The one to its left appeared mostly human, advancing with sharp claws for nails, resembling what could be a very black-widowish female. She leered at Maka, revealing a pair of fangs, and the scythe meister glared right back, gripping Soul tighter, leather of gloves creaking. The last resembled a wraith, face haunted as it hobbled along, looking malnourished. Its empty eyes were on Black Star, who was wearing an eager grin.

"OREEEEEEEE!" The ninja assassin leaped forward, slicing Tsubaki's heavy blade toward the wraith. The creature dodged, and sank to all fours, skittering past Black Star, before it came back, leaping up from underneath.

CLANG!

Soul's shaft hit claws as Maka blocked the widow-woman, protecting herself from being torn to shreds. The creature leered at her, revealing a pair of delicate fangs. Maka cringed, and pushed back, breaking into offense with a roar. She swung Soul forward, and the pre-Kishin ducked and rolled. She was back up behind Maka, who turned, keeping her defense up, "HAAAAAAA!" She charged the pre-Kishin again, and metal resounded across the lawn as she fended it off. A soul-bullet shot past her, hitting the creature in the face. It screeched as it dissipated, leaving behind a floating red Kishin egg. Maka looked over her shoulder to see Kid taking aim at the manticore-thing, face fierce with concentration.

The pre-Kishin turned as Kid irritated it with bullets, skittering toward Kid. He backed up, still shooting steadily as the pre-Kishin approached. It had some sort armor his bullets weren't penetrating, so Kid opted for weakening it. Its tail rose higher, threateningly. Liz's image appeared in the metal of his left gun, "Kid! Be careful!" her face was stricken with worry. Her gun meister ignored her, taking steady aim at its head continuously. Maka was watching them warily, scythe raised. Black Star was still fighting the wraith-thing—it was faster than it looked. He parried yet another attack as it attempted to spring up on him. It pushed off him, throwing him back against the manticore. He grunted as he hit the armor, back arcing over its shape. The pre-Kishin turned, and stared at the ninja assassin a moment before it skittered around.

"No, no, no!" Kid leapt forward, and yanked hard on its barbed tail. It turned again. Its tail raised.

"KID! WATCH OUT!"

_Splurch_.

Kid gasped as barbed something stuck his middle. He choked on his own blood as the cries of his friends fell on his ears. No matter, he would be fine. The barb withdrew, and Kid crumbled to the ground, bending low over his guns. He choked up more blood as he waited for the wound to close. His lungs were filling with blood—he'd cough it all out. If only the wound would close. He heard shouts and the sound of something high and keening, and looked up dully to see the wraith dissolve. Good, ponly one more left. He opened his mouth, to suck in a huge gulp of oxygen. He couldn't. Kid's eyes widened. He couldn't breathe! The shinigami began to panic as he felt himself grow dizzy, suffocating on his own blood. He heard Liz and Patti scream his name, and a bright flash of light and soft hands at his back. The guns laid him down, pretty blue eyes wide with panic. He choked on more blood. Black began to close in on his vision.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Maka leapt on the manticore's back, and hacked. She sliced cleanly through its head, cleaving it in two. Soul lodged, and she yanked him back out with a long, dreadful squelching sound. Blood spurted from its skull for a moment, before its body disappeared under her. She landed among the smoke of its body, and Soul turned back into a human. They dashed over to Kid and the Thompsons, who were already administering the best CPR they could, joined by Black Star and Tsubaki. Maka bent over the suffocating shinigami anxiously, "Move!" She crawled in between Liz and Patti, and began breathing for Kid, pressing her lips to his, exhaling, pumping compressions so his heart would beat. One, two, three, four five, breathe three times. One, two, three, four, five, breathe three times. Maka kept it up. Liz squeezed her partner's hand hard.

"Goddammit, shinigami, you better not die, you spoiled brat!" Tears were streaming down her face, and she kept bringing his hand to her lips, kissing it, "You better not die, little brother."

Patti had simply buried his face in his shoulder, and would not release his arm. Maka licked the penny-sucking blood off her lips as she compressed his chest again, hoping, wishing praying for a heartbeat. She leaned down to breathe for him again. One, two—hot, stocky blood flooded her face, accompanied with the sound of wet, rattly coughing. Maka drew back as Kid choked up blood, and his hand moved to his injury, finding three sets of hands there, compressing the wound. Golden eyes slit open, and Kid took a deep, rattling breath, demanding oxygen. Liz and Patti sobbed with relief as their meister gulped down deep breaths, and coughed up the last of the blood clogging his lungs. He'd be okay.

If only it weren't for that damn curse.

* * *

Kid sighed as Maka and Liz finished wrapping his chest, and he took a deep breath. The bandages limited his breathing a bit, making it harder to inhale, but he could breathe, nonetheless. He shifted, wincing as the injury twinged. It had begun to heal, but it would be slow-going. The curse hindered his body's ability to heal rapidly. He was unused to it, even if he had been told by Stein. Liz had already scolded him for it, backed by a scary-looking yet worried Patti. Maka had given him a talking-to, as well.

"Feeling better?" The three of them looked up as Harry came in, followed by Ron, Vernon and Dudley. Petunia had gone to bed, already.

"I do feel better. Thank you." Kid winced as Maka helped him pull his dress shirt back on. Just shifting his arms hurt. Harry nodded, and sat down in the easy chair across from Kid. Ron sat on the arm, and Vernon stood in the doorway next to Dudley. Kid fumbled with the buttons, and it was taken over by Liz. He sighed. She looked strained already, from the stress of almost losing him. He was fine, though. He'd be okay. It would be healed by tomorrow, he knew.

"Well, I must say that I'm impressed. You protected us all, and risked your life for it." Vernon's voice cut across the silence. Kid nodded, and a small smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Thank you. It's my duty as a shinigami."

"We leave for Hogwarts tomorrow." Harry supplied.

"Mmm. I look forward to it."

"Stein is coming. And so is Angela." Maka finished adjusting his collar and rested her hands in her lap, "Shibusen is thinking of sending her there."

"That will be good for her."

"Does she know about Mifune yet?" Liz asked. Kid shook his head, and she sighed, "Why did we never say anything?"

"What is there to say? How can you tell a child that their parental figure is dead?"

Harry cleared his throat loudly, and all turned toward him, "What? How old is this girl?"

"She's six." Maka sat back against the couch, adjusting hefr skirt.

Harry nodded for a moment, "I never knew my parents. They died when I was one. They were killed by the darkest wizard of our time."

"I'm sorry." Kid murmured.

"You should say something. How long has it been?"

"Almost a year." Maka was staring at her blue skirt intently. Harry shook his head.

"You should tell her."

"Well . . . the thing is . . . Black Star was the one who killed him." Kid sighed, "It was in a fair fight, and he was sided with the enemy. Mifune and Black Star were rivals. He was, however, a good man."

"Mmm. I see why that's difficult, then."

"Yes."

There was a knock on the doorway, and everyone looked up as Soul entered the living room. He smiled gently at Kid. Wordlessly, the scythe stepped forward, offering a hand to Kid. The shinigami took it, and Soul helped him up. It was time for bed. Kid winced as pain shot up his torso, and inhaled sharply. Soul took his weight, wrapping an arm around his waist as the taller boy squeezed Soul's shoulders. The scythe helped Kid hobble out.

"You look much better." He peeked up through white bags, red eyes soft.

"I know, I've been told. Thank you."

They came to the stairs, and Soul stopped. The shinigami lifted one foot, wincing as his muscles protested to the movement, and pushed up. Soul held him tight, supporting. They made their way up the stairs, slowly but surely. Two cots had been set up in the music room, one for each of them. Kid wondered if he'd even be able to sleep, tonight. Laying down hurt. Hell, _everything_ hurt. Soul plopped Kid down on his bed, and went over to his friend's suitcase. He found pajamas, and reminded himself not to be distracted as he walked back. Kid hissed as he held his arms out before him—it was the farthest he could go. Soul pulled his shirt off, and slipped the pajama top on. Kid undid his jeans, and Soul helped slide them off. He tried not to stare too much, and tried to suppress the heat creeping up his neck. Kid gasped as he shifted to move his legs up. Soul quickly slipped the sweats on, and Kid was allowed to relax. Soul helped him turn, so that the shinigami lay properly in the bed, and lay back gingerly, hissing again. He released a breath, body relaxing. Soul climbed into his own cot, snuggling under the covers.

"Maka said she talked to Harry. They might be able to find something about the curse."

"Yes. Chichiue told me they have an extensive library."

"I can't believe you haven't found anything at Shibusen."

"Mmm. I haven't looked at it entirely, though. It's just difficult—like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Exactly. Well, as least the Thompsons said that your . . . uh . . . sanity is stable."

"Yes. It is. I'm glad, though I do have dreams. I struggle with it."

"That's just part of it. I still struggle with the Black Blood."

"Yeah." Kid yawned, "I'm so tired. Let's sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight. Sleep well."

"Goodnight. Same to you."

Kid closed his eyes, and allowed his body to relax. No horror visions tonight, thank God. Between the curse and being injured, problems with his sanity were the last thing he needed right now. His brain was simply too exhausted to expend the effort required. Still, he worried about himself. The dreams horrified him, sometimes. He would wake up gasping and drowning in sheets, and sneak into Liz and Patti's room. They always let their adoptive little brother snuggle in with them, in order to keep the nightmares at bay. But, none of that tonight.

They boarded the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you to my new beta, MyObsidianSoul, for beta'ing. She is awesome! ^^

Nadia should be able to soon. Last her journal tells me, she's almost finished with exams. WHOO!

I wanted to write the SE cast traveling, because we never see them actually going through security and whatnot. I wanted to write something no one else has, before. Also, it was fun. =_=

I loved the KidxSoul sexual tension. It's fun. Soul is confident and perfectly normal around Maka, but for some reason he's shy and adorkable and cute around Kid. IS CUTE~ X3 I guess that makes sense, Kid is the seme. Or, will be.

I'm having a bit of trouble with keeping track of all the characters. Once the rest of the HP cast is added, the main character count will be way high. Despite this, I will try to have crossover interactions as much as I can. The primary fandom _is_ Soul Eater, so that's why you're seeing less from the HP cast POV.

Okay! Next chapter~! The Soul Eater cast board the Hogwarts Express along with Harry and Ron. The rest of the cast will be met, including Ginny, Luna, Malfoy (Yes, I am so bringing him back), and plenty of other fan favorites. It will mostly be this year's seventh years, as everyone from Harry's, Hermione's, and Ginny's class are gone. Also, more KidxMaka drama, the way their affair started comes to light, and romance happens! Welcome Feast at Hogwarts, Angela lulz, Stein being Stein, and lots of awesomesauce next time around. WHOO! Stick around~

**OH, LOOK. IT'S CALLING, ISN'T IT? LOOK HOW LONELY IT IS. WHY DON'T YOU GIVE IT A PET OR A CLICK?**

**CLICKY, CLICKY~**

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**V**


	3. Track 3: Stand in the Rain

**Disclaimer:** All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Ohkubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.

All original Harry Potter characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 1997 by J.K. Rowling. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Harry Potter series.

_Resonating Between the Notes_ Story copyright (c) 2010 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies

ALL MUSICAL LYRICS AND AUDIO TRACKS copyright (c) to respective owners. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies do not in any way own these lyrics or audio tracks

* * *

**A/N: **Helllooooo~~ I am back. WHEEE. And, I has goodies beyond chapter 3 of RBtN! You see, enough music has been built up to create an actual FST~ You can find the download on my LiveJournal, at this URL (spaces, derp): ht tp: / ka shii - ai. live journal. com / 63 88. ht ml

Enjoy! This way you don't have to deal with YouTube this chapter. XD

* * *

When music is to appear in context of the chapter, you will have a cue to start it. This cue is the **prose highlighted in bold, followed by a number in parentheses (1)** and this is your signal to start the song. The number in parentheses corresponds with_** BOTH**_ the Resonating Between the Notes FST, and the playlist I give you below. If it says (1), that song is first up in the setlist.

1. Love Story _by Taylor Swift_  
URL: ht tp: / www. you tube. com / wat ch ?v= 0oYk Zs4y R2o

2. Deep Down Ascend (demo version) _by Apocalyptica_  
URL: ht tp: / www. you tube. com / wat ch? v= DY Ebw USW Xzw

Resonating Between the Notes FST on YouTube: http: / www. youtube. com /view_ play_ list? p=0DBEC 2D2B0147 18B&search _query= resonating+ between+the +notes+ full+ soundtrack +playlist

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_**Track 2  
Maka's Song**_**  
**

**Stand in the Rain**

by_  
Superchic[k]_

Youtube Link:  
(Don't forget to take out ALL the spaces, so this will work)

http: /www. youtube. com /watch

She never slows down.  
She doesn't know why but  
she knows that when she's  
all alone  
feels like it's all  
coming down.

She won't turn aroouund.  
The shadows are long  
and she fears  
if she criies  
that first tear,  
the tears will not stop  
raining doown.

So stand in the rain,  
stand your groound.  
Stand up when it's  
all crashing down.  
You stand through the paain,  
you won't drown,  
and one day what's  
lost can be found.  
You stand in the ra-ain.

She won't make a soouund.  
Alone in this fight  
with herself  
and the fears  
whispering  
if she stands,  
she'll fall down.  
She wants to be foouund.  
The only way out is  
through everything she's  
running from,  
wants to give up,  
and lie down.

So stand in the rain,  
stand your groound.  
Stand up when it's  
all crashing down.  
You stand through the paain,  
you won't drown,  
and one day what's  
lost can be found.

You stand in the ra-ain.  
So stand in the rain,  
stand your groound.  
Stand up when it's  
all crashing down.

Stand through the paain,  
you won't drown,  
and one day what's  
lost can be found.

So stand in the rain,  
stand your groound.  
Stand up when it's  
all crashing down.  
You stand through the paain,  
you won't drown,  
and one day what's  
lost can be found.  
You stand in the ra-ain.

A dull beeping pulled Maka from her pleasant dream about Kid, into the dull pre-dawn light of early morning. She fumbled for the alarm clock, and slammed her fist over it, for once apathetic to the result. Alarm, damn. The dream she'd had was hazy and feverish, full of lovemaking and idealisms and the exchange of I love you's. Her heart swelled heavily in her chest, and she sat up from the air mattress and its orientation on the floor, to see Tsubaki and the Thompsons stirring. She smiled softly at her friends, and stretched her arms over her head. The muscles popped and groaned as they straightened themselves out, and Maka relaxed and stood from the mattress.

Petunia and Harry were already in the kitchen, each sipping a mug of coffee, "Sleep well?" he asked, smiling at her over his cup. Maka gave a half-hearted shrug, and accepted the steaming mug Harry's aunt handed her. She sipped at it idly, as she watched the Dursley household grow to life around her. Dawn broke around six fifteen, coloring the sky beautiful rose and gold hues. The sun blazed in the center, a giant ball of powerful light, radiating beautifully upon Little Whinging. The scythe meister happily took in the lovely sunrise, before moving to the upstairs bathroom to dress and whatnot. She ran into Kid as she left in a fresh Spartoi uniform. He looked much better, moving without pain or discomfort. It seemed his injury was almost or already healed.

"Good morning." She supplied.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

"Yes, I guess." Maka flushed slightly, and shuffled her feet, "I—I dreamed about you."

"Oh. I see." Kid moved past her, into the bathroom. Maka stared after the shut door, and pouted. Stupid shinigami. Stupid men. She turned with a huff and traipsed downstairs for some real breakfast. Soul was awake, as well as Black Star. Both looked haggard, like waking up early was a huge effort. Maka smirked, and sat down at the table. Soul immediately perked up, and heaped a plate with eggs, toast and sausage before handing it to her. She accepted it, perfectly used to this sort of doting.

She heard someone clear their throat behind her, and she looked around to see Kid in the doorway, "Soul, she doesn't need so much, does she?"

"Huh? What, you've never seen how much this girl eats? I don't know where she puts it all."

Maka sipped her orange juice and waved _Romeo and Juliet_ around threateningly. Soul blanched and bent over his food. Harry chuckled, "She's got you under her eye." Soul nodded, and munched on a sausage. Maka beamed at him, and opened her book to its marked page. Her weapon watched her, as Kid sat down on the scythe meister's other side. She pretended to ignore him, even though she could feel his stare boring into her head. In fact, both boys seemed to be keeping an eye on her.

"I'd swear, Harry, Hermione is sitting in your kitchen." Harry laughed at the reference as Ron wandered in, staring at Maka poring over her book, "Look at her, it's another one of them. I swear, women and their reading . . ."

Maka looked up, soft green eyes confused, "Hmmm?"

"He's saying you're like his girlfriend and my best friend, Hermione. She loves books, too."

"Oh! Will I get to meet her?"

"Yes, she wouldn't miss our Seventh Year for anything."

Maka nodded and smiled, and went back to reading. Soul smirked, "That's my bookworm." Maka shot him a glare, and he smiled sheepishly, in a very adorable way.

Soon, everyone was all dressed and packed, and it was time to depart. Harry and Ron decided they would accompany Spartoi in the rental Jaguars. Ron was fascinated by the fact that muggles had racing cars, much like witches and wizards had racing brooms. Kid had spoken with his father that morning, and would be keeping the sleek, red Jag, much to his delight. Maka watched as he ran his hands over the steering wheel as she slipped into the passenger seat once again. Harry and Ron had magicked the rear, so that Harry, Soul, Liz, and Patti sat comfortably in the back seat. Kid at last started the car, and pulled out. Maka was excited, and turned around to face Harry.

"So, what's Hogwarts like?"

Harry smiled and opened his hands jazz-style, "Magical!"

"No, seriously."

"It's very, very old. You can feel this . . . inherent power radiate from it. Sometimes, even muggles sense it, even if they can't see it. I'm not sure if you'll be able to, it has anti-muggle charms on it."

Maka arched an eyebrow, "Oh, I have a feeling we'll be able to. Even if we _are_ muggles, we're still a different race than the normal human being. More powerful. Hell, Kid isn't even human."

"He's not?"

"No, I'm a shinigami. I explained this."

"Right . . ." Harry sat back in his seat, as Soul pulled out an original, first-generation iPod and a pair of orange chunky Deathcandy headphones.

Maka beamed, "I can't wait!"

* * *

_SHWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_

The loud, shrilling whistle of a train greeted Spartoi, Harry, and Ron as they stepped into the bustling mob of humanity that was King's Cross Station. Harry and Ron had both explained what was to happen, and the way in which they were to get onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Maka smiled at the quirkiness of the name, heavily reminded of the eccentric culture that surrounded Death City. She was a native, after all, as well as Kid and Black Star, and all three grew up doing unusual things and playing in strange places that most children didn't.

Soul was already looking around, his headphones around his neck as he searched for their teacher and Angela. She could hear the faint strains of 3OH!3 wisping from his iPod, through the large, high-quality headphones. She hoped the technology would still work, or her poor weapon would be miserable without his music. She had a feeling it might—the ancient magic prevalent in Death City existed comfortably with its digital technologies. Soul's face finally lit up, and he waved his hand over his head. Maka peered in the same direction, and saw Dr. Franken Stein walking towards them with Angela sitting on the professor's shoulders. Maka giggled; he looked hassled, but quite reminiscent of a harried father.

"Glad to see you all made it here in one piece. Now, I'm sick of babysitting, so here." Stein pulled Angela off his shoulders, ignoring her protests, as he handed the six-year-old over to Maka. She smiled and took the little girl, who was sulking precociously, and put her down, holding into her hand. Patti walked over and took her, delighted by the cute little witch.

Stein cranked his screw, as Harry stepped up nervously and held out his hand, "Hello." Stein took it and shook with his free hand, still cranking.

"A wizard of the Magi Clan." He smiled too wide, "How interesting. I must experiment."

Harry looked worried. Maka gave him a nervous smile, "He's only half-serious."

"Right . . . we should go." He checked his watch, "It's already almost eleven."

"HERMIONE! OI, 'MIONE! OVER HERE!" There was a shriek, followed by something tall, bushy, and brown crashing into Ron. He laughed, as a girl with pretty, curly chestnut hair and large brown eyes clung to him happily. He kissed her on top of the head, before letting Hermione go so she could hug Harry. She at last let her other friend go, and brushed back her hair, surveying Spartoi.

"Is this the guard?"

"Yes." Maka stepped forward, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Maka Albarn, and this is my weapon, Soul."

Hermione paused in shaking Maka's hand, still clinging to it, "Weapon?" Her face darkened, "That sounds a bit . . ."

"Unethical?" Soul replied, pulling the one headphone he'd been listening to from his ear, "Not really." He held out his right arm, and allowed it to transform, light wrapping around, and reforming. Passerby stared as the blade extended from his wrist, though Shibusen was not-so-secret, so it didn't much matter, "We're human beings, too, and are treated as such. If I'm tired, Maka doesn't push me farther than I can go."

"Oh . . . I see. How interesting . . . is that Transfiguration?"

Soul shook his head, "I don't know what that is. I guess it could be, but it's more permanent." He turned his arm back and relaxed it, "But we're called Demon Weapons—organic weapons. We still need to eat, sleep, and rest, and we're still people. Shibusen treats us that way."

Hermione nodded, "Good. Harry, Ginny is already on the train."

The famous boy grinned, "Good. Can't wait."

The three magical people made for a barrier between platforms nine and ten. The rest of Spartoi followed. Maka looked on curiously, as Harry held out his hand to her. She took it, grabbing up Soul's, "Like this." Harry stepped forward, toward the platform. Were they gonna crash, or . . .? Oh. Maka looked around in shock and awe, to see another completely new train station beyond the barrier, upon the tracks of which a massive, beautifully scarlet steam engine sang its whistle. _Hogwarts Express_ was scrawled in all-abandon writing along its side in gold. She glanced to the side, to see Soul gaping as much as she was. Kid seemed to accept it readily, as did Stein.

"DUDE. That's awesome!" Black Star grinned, and hopped up on a divider, index finger pointing to the air. He inhaled, ready to make a speech—

"Black Star! Get down, we don't have time for this!"

The ninja meister sighed, and jumped down, disappointed, but listened to his weapon nonetheless. Liz was clinging close to Kid, something about "scary things in the Wizarding world," and Patti was trying to encourage her to be brave. Maka looked around, watching the bustle of the magical population, as they saw their kids off for school. All dressed in sweeping, noble robes, or fashion reminiscent of the medieval times, and perhaps later. She liked it, very much so. It was much like the different ways the Spartoi students dressed, each similar, but expressing its own style.

Another blast shrilled, the magic of the sound palpable on the air. Maka checked her watch, and saw that it was ten until eleven. There was a yell, and Maka looked up once again, to see what was obviously Ron's family rushing toward him, the mother with his same shock of red hair. Ron looked embarrassed as Molly Weasley approached then, and pulled her son into a hug.

"_Muuuum_!"

"Oh, hush, Ronnie. These must be Hogwarts' guard. Welcome!"

Kid smiled, "We're pleased to be here."

"THE GREAT ME SHALL PRO—"

"Shut up, Black Star." Soul snapped.

"Likewise, dear. I'm Ron's mum, and _hope_ to be Harry's mother-in-law."

"Yeah, your mate starts dating you sister, and next thing—"

"Oh, hush it, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Pleased to meet you. We look forward to handling the protection of such a highly regarded school, even if most of our world doesn't know of it." Mrs. Weasely smiled at Kid, then tapped her watch, "You all best be getting on. Dad sends his love, as does Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George." Harry snorted, he couldn't honestly imagine George or Percy sending _love_. Molly sent hugs all around, even to the members of Spartoi. The train shrilled its whistle once more, with only five minutes till. Hermione began making her way toward the train. Maka grabbed Soul's hand, and they followed, Harry and Ron bringing up the rear with the trolleys of their luggage.

"So. I hear you like books." Maka said, falling into step beside Hermione.

"Yes, I do! I do try to read muggle works. The works of fiction are always good."

"Shakespeare?"

"Yes!"

Maka grinned, and pulled put her beaten copy of _Romeo and Juliet_, "It's one of my favorite plays of all time. I'm rereading it for the millionth time."

Hermione smiled, "I haven't read it, yet. Haven't had a chance, or never took the time. I want to, though."

"Here." Maka handed it over, "Borrow it."

"Oh. No, I just met you, and—"

"No, really. It's okay, I love to share it with people."

Hermione nodded, accepting the beaten playbook, "Thank you."

"Oi, oi. This is a good song." Soul stated, holding out a headphone. Maka leaned over, and pressed her cheek to his, listening. She bounced in time to the upbeat hip-hop.

"Is this 3OH!3's new stuff?"

"Yep. I still need to give it to you, don't I?"

"Yes, you do. I hope our technology works around this magic. It seems to."

"Shinigami-sama is old magic, isn't he? I'm not surprised our technology works around it; it's been used to our presence."

"Mmm."

She finally leaned away from him, still holding his hand, as they climbed onto the train. The interior was comfortable, she thought, with nice, somewhat roomy compartments. They followed Hermione down several compartments, into one where a red-haired girl who was obviously Ron's sister and a blonde girl with large, pretty blue eyes both sat. Hermione smiled as the blonde girl stood, and walked over and hugged Hermione, followed by Ron and Harry. She turned, and smiled right at Maka and Soul, "Hello. I'm Luna Lovegood. And you are?"

Maka smiled at Luna's pleasantly delicate Irish accent, "I'm Maka, and this is my weapon Soul. We are part of the guard from Shibusen."

"Oh. How lovely. I wonder, are you associated with a conspiracy from the Ministry of Magic?"

"E—excuse me?"

Hermione laughed nervously, and took her friend's hand, leading her over to sit down, "Ignore her, Luna has strange theories . . ."

"Right . . ." Maka walked over, and took a seat, finding herself between Kid and Soul. It seemed like both boys were shadowing her. Angela promptly climbed into Maka's lap.

"I like Miss Maka." Maka and Tsubaki were more or less the only people whom Angela was polite and respectful to. Maka smiled, and cuddled the little witch in her lap.

"We'll have lots of fun, promise."

Soul smiled at the two of them, taking in Maka's pretty green eyes and wispy blonde hair for the millionth time, before his gaze moved to Kid's lovely, huge eyes and inky black hair. He looked to the window when both looked back at him, and pulled his headphones up around his ears, staring idly out the window and wondering when the train was going to move. Harry settled in their compartment, next to Ginny, the two of them snuggling together and holding hands.

"Right. Ron and I are going to look after the other students, so we'll be back later." Hermione said, pulling out her Head Girl badge and pinning it to the front of her green hoodie.

"I really don't want to deal with those nasty little bug—"

"_Language_, Ron!" Hermione hissed, dragging him out of the compartment. It seemed Black Star, Patti, Tsubaki, and Stein had taken up in the compartment next to theirs, so Maka settled back for the ride to Hogwarts. She scowled at her weapon for ignoring everyone in favor of his music, before turning to Harry and Ginny.

"How long will the journey be?"

"A day, more or less. It's all the way in Scotland . . . somewhere." Ginny waved her hand vaguely, "The castle is Unplottable, so it can't be drawn on a map."

"I see. Cool. Crap, now I have nothing to read . . ."

"Here." Luna handed Maka a copy of the magazine she was reading.

"Thank you."

She stared at the moving picture with interest, along with the unique title. _The Quibbler_. Interesting. She opened it, and began to read. It was unusual, and seemed quite informative. There were a few articles that seemed a bit out there, but for the most part, she found she learned very much about the Wizarding world, such as news with its government, and other such information. Eventually, she finished the magazine, though, a little too fast. She sighed as she leaned back, and thought about what to do. Her eyes wandered over to Soul, nodding his head to his music as he watched the countryside fly past, his hands conducting to the notes without missing a beat. Her gaze moved down to the guitar case he had _insisted_ on packing, because apparently he needed it on a long-term mission, even if he hardly ever played it. She opened her mouth, ready to ask him if he would play, but the scrape of the door to the compartment sliding back interrupted her.

"Trolley!" Maka looked up, to see a plump, friendly-looking woman with a trolley full of what looked like enchanted sweets. Angela immediately lit up.

"I want some, Miss Maka!"

Maka sighed, "Ah . . . I don't think so. Sugar isn't good for you."

"Awww, please? Look how cool they are!" She said, as she watched Harry purchase sweets. He looked regretfully back at her.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'd get you some, but if Miss Maka says no, then that means no."

Angela looked thoroughly upset. Kid at last looked up from his novel, "If you won't buy her any, I will."

Maka narrowed her eyes, "No one ever asked you!"

Kid just shrugged, before he stood, pulling out the bag of Wizarding money Shibusen had given them, "I'm the mission captain." Maka sulked as he bought the sweets, and handed them to Angela with a smile, who looked delighted. Angela happily climbed into his lap, and insisted on sharing them with her newfound friend. The scythe meister scowled in disapproval, and her gaze wandered to Soul beside her, and prodded him hard in the arm.

"Yes?"

"Can I listen, too?"

"Sure." Soul leaned over, so he rested against her, and their cheeks pressed together. She closed her eyes as the music washed over her—3OH!3 was one of their favorite shared bands. Soul seemed to snuggle closer, "Say. You should show everyone your beautiful singing voice."

Maka felt herself go red, "I—I'm not that good."

"Oh, I think you are. Isn't that hypocritical, when you always insist I play?"

"Fine. Then you have to play guitar while I sing."

Soul sighed, and rolled his eyes, "I hate it when I say stuff and you make it backfire on me."

"Any song."

"Uh-huh."

"No matter how uncool."

" . . . which one you thinking?"

"_Love Story_ by Taylor Swift."

"But that's like pop-country! That's so—"

"Ah-ah-ah. You promised."

"Fine. But after this song."

"Okay."

They allowed the song to end, then Soul sat back up, and put away his headphones. He bent over and began undoing the silver clasps on his guitar case, "Maka is going to sing for us. And . . . I'll play guitar, I guess. Only because she's making me." Everyone looked up in interest, and Soul looked sheepish while Maka's face burned once again, "I insisted. Seriously, you should hear this girl sing. I get goosebumps."

"H—he's just saying that. Really, I'm not that great."

Soul adjusted his jacket, and picked up the guitar, settling into position, "Ready when you are." Maka nodded, and took a few deep breaths, eyes closed. She'd only ever sang for Soul a few times, and once for Patti, only because it was with who she was most at ease with about her voice. She at last opened her eyes, her mind on Romeo and Juliet, that sweeping, young love that was one of the greatest love stories of the ages, yet one of the most tragic, and so like she and Kid, it felt like. She nodded to Soul, before her eyes moved to the shinigami, who watched with intent. He would be a good father. The thought crossed her mind **just as Soul's fingers struck up the soft, countrified melody that was the musical back up. She opened her mouth, and began to sing (1).**

"_We were both young, when I first saw you. / I close my eyes, and the flashback starts. / I'm standin' there / on a balcony in summer air. / See the lights, see the party, the ballgowns. / See you make your way through the crowd / and say hello. / Little did I know / that you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles, / and my Daddy said, 'Stay away from Juliet!' / And I was cryin' on the staircase, beggin' you, 'Please don't go-oo!'_

"_And I said, 'Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone, / I'll be waiting, / all that's left to do is run./ You be the Prince, and I'll be the Princess. / It's a love story, baby / just say / yes.'_

"_So, I sneak out to the garden to see you. / We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew, so close your eyes. / Let's leave this town for a little whi-i-ile. / Oh, oh, 'cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter, / and my Daddy said, 'Stay away from Juliet!'/ But you were everything to me / I was beggin' you, 'Please don't go-oo!'_

"_And I said, 'Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone, / I'll be waiting, / all that's left to do is run./ You be the Prince, and I'll be the Princess. / It's a love story, baby / just say / yes.'_

"_Romeo said, 'Me, they're tryin' to tell me how to feel . / This love is difficult, / but is it ree-eal? / Don't be afraid, we'll make it out if this mess. / It's a love story, baby / just say / yes.'_

"_Oh-ooo-ohh."_

The beautiful, lovely sounds of Soul's guitar filled the small compartment, the sound reverbating in their ears, incredible in its tangibility. Maka inhaled, and resumed signing, her voice sweet.

"_I got tired of waaaiting, / wonderin' if you were ever comin' around. / My faith in you was / faaading / when I met you on the outskirts of town. / And I said, 'Romeo, save me, I've been feelin' so alone. / I keep waiting / for you / but you never come, is this in my head? / I don't know what to think.' / He knelt to the ground / and pulled out a ring and said, / 'Marry me, Juliet, you never have to be alone. / I love you, and that's all I really know. / I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress. / It's a love story, baby / just say / yeeees.'_

"_Ohh, oh-ooo-ohh. Ohh, oh-ooo-oh.."_

"'_Cause we were both young, / when I first saw you . . ."_

Kid fidgeted uncomfortably, as the song ended. He clapped along with everyone else, but he knew the song pertained to his relationship with Maka. He was not blind to her bitterness, nor to her love for Shakespeare, particularly that play. He sighed, as Maka's huge, perceptive green eyes continued to watch him. He allowed himself to be distracted by Angela, who handed him a chocolate frog. He took it as she stared at the card that came with the package in fascination.

"Maka, that was lovely!" Luna beamed.

"Thanks. Soul taught me how to sing properly."

"Well, he must sing, then."

"Nngh, no. Sorry, I don't like to."

"I don't either!"

"Yes you do."

"Go to hell."

"Okay~" Maka bristled at him, while everyone else laughed.

"That really was very good, Maka." Harry said, "You have a lot of talent."

"Thanks . . . Soul has _way_ more than me."

Soul just shook his head in denial, as he put the acoustic guitar back. Maka shifted restlessly, her mind still on the meaning of the song, and the fact that she had more or less sung it to Kid directly. Her eyes moved to him once again, watching the beautiful shinigami as he talked to Angela. Her heart swelled with love for him, regret, pain, and she wished so, so much he would say yes. They were a love story all their own, and there was something between them that needed to follow through, whether Kid liked it or wanted it or not. And she had a feeling he _did_ indeed want it—want her. It had always been her desire to be wanted, particularly with the way her father treated her mother. She couldn't take this, she had to do _something_.

"Here, Miss Maka." The scythe meister smiled as Angela handed her a box of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

"Thank you." Maka pocketed it, and pulled off her coat. It was getting warm in the small compartment. Or, maybe it was the fact that Kid sat close to her, and she could feel his breath tickling her cheek. His presence could make her shiver and melt into a pile of mess, if he wanted it to. She found herself leaning into him involuntarily. He said nothing when she laid her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes to breathe in his smell. He in fact shifted closer to her, leaning back into her body. The attraction was obvious. She had to say something.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk." She sat up, "Kid, would you like to join me?"

"Oh . . . uh, sure."

He replaced Angela on his spot, and told her to behave, before he followed Maka out of the compartment. He politely offered his arm. Maka took it, and leaned into him again, pretending for a moment that they were a normal couple out on a normal walk to stretch their legs, and that things were perfectly okay between them. She eventually found an empty compartment, and pulled him into it. He slid the door closed behind him as she sat down on one of the seats.

"So. That was a very . . . interesting performance." He said, turning back around.

Maka fidgeted uncomfortably, "I didn't . . . realize how obvious it was?"

"Uh-huh." He walked over and sat down across from her, "I told you that no one can know of our relations."

Maka bit her lip and shook her head, "I don't care, anymore. I don't understand why you're being so contrary."

Kid huffed, and collapsed back into his seat, rolling his eyes, "Must I spell it out for you _every single time_?"

"No! But there has to be . . . I don't know, something . . ."

"I can't be with . . . a mortal. I can't be with anyone."

"Where did you come from, then? Who's your mother?"

"The point is, you need to just be happy with what I can give you."

"You didn't answer my question!"

Kid's mouth twisted, and his gaze wandered to the window, "Soul would be a good match for you."

"Soul has nothing to do with this. Besides, he's just a friend."

"So am I."

"Oh, yeah, a 'friend.'" Maka added air-quotes to the last word, "Who grabs me and drags me into dark corners for make-out sessions."

Kid looked thoroughly uncomfortable, "I only . . . offered . . ."

"You promised you would make sure I was never lonely. But now . . ." A lump rose in her throat, as her eyes dropped to the floor. She had never felt lonelier in her life. It was like all those times when she was a little girl, and she would hide under her desk as she listened to her parent's nasty fights in the next room. It hurt, hurt, hurt, to know that it would probably be a repeat of her parent's path. Kid would just keep collecting his jar of hearts, and she would keep allowing him to. Her hands twisted around her skirt, as she tried to suppress the memories. The association was too much, "I hate this. I hate that you won't . . . give anything more, than what's physical. I can't just live like this."

"You chose it. I didn't think you would take up my suggestion. I know it . . . feels good, but you'll never be filled. Have you ever considered my feel—"

"_Your_ feelings? You're cold! You don't even care, I don't even know why you bothered in the first fucking place!" She turned away, into the seat, curling up into a ball. He was suddenly there, crouched before her. His hands gently took her arms, prying them toward him.

"I'm sorry. I hate hurting you so much." He whispered, his hands moving up to wipe away the tears leaking down her cheeks.

"Then why do you keep doing it? Why won't you just say yes? I would be happy, then!"

Kid found sudden interest in her skirt, his eyebrow furrowing in discomfort and pain, "Because . . ." He swallowed, the click of his throat an audible echo around the room, "I—I—because . . I . . . I don't know. I guess . . . I love you, too much."

Maka's heart moved, simultaneously swelling and crumpling at the words. It throbbed hot and loud and wet in her ears. So, so much. They were missing so, so much of each other. She fought down the stone in her throat, even as lumps of saltwater were pulled from her eyes and trickled down her face. He loved her. He loved her! She barely dared to believe it, but there it was, a promise in his metallic liquid-gold eyes. But . . . he was unwilling to make any commitment. All men were the same, "I don't understand."

"You won't like being with an immortal, I promise you. Do you really want to grow old, while I stay young? Die before I do?"

Maka shook her head, her front teeth digging into her quivering lip, "N—no."

"Well, then. Be thankful for what we can have, for the time being."

He kissed her gently on the forehead, and she sighed, leaning against his shoulder, for comfort, for sorrow. He rubbed her back, tracing symmetrical patterns over the white cloth idly as he held her. Maybe they could simply stay like this, for a bit. Just hold each other. Enjoy it while they could. She closed her eyes as he toyed with a pigtail, running his fingers through her soft, wispy hair. She could sense his soul, so close to hers. It was distinctive and somewhat foreign, and possessed the raw power of a shinigami soul. She expanded her own little soul, the soft feathers poking at his powerful, godly one. He flinched a bit.

"Maka?"

"Resonate with me, Kid. Please."

"I don't know, Resonance between meisters is difficult."

"We're advanced students, dummy."

"Fine, fine."

Kid rolled his eyes, then relaxed. His head dropped onto her shoulder, and he closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from being distracted by her soft breasts, on which his ear rested. He focused on her soft breathing, and allowed himself to pick up the rhythm, in . . . out, in, and . . . out. His Perception peaked, as his meister instincts to seek connection on a spiritual level took over. He could feel the edged of the Soul Realm call to him. He allowed himself to fall into it, answering the call, and all of a sudden, he was there. He opened his eyes to the floating, dark place, and looked around, seeking out a small, pure, bluish-white soul with the wings of an angel. He heard faint strains of soft chords, like an acoustic guitar. He followed the sound, swimming—or was it flying?—toward the beautiful, rich sound. It became louder as he approached, and saw a little soul before him, glowing its little blue-white light, shining like a new star. Two auras very like wings radiated out from its side, and it fluttered like a small, rapid hummingbird, which seemed to produce the sound of music. A soft breeze and the airy sounds of an acoustic guitar beckoned to him, and he moved closer, reaching for the warm ball of lifeforce.

Kid opened his eyes to reality as he felt himself connect with Maka, and was unsurprised when sparks flew between them, wherever they touched. Meisters were not amplifiers, thus the energy produced when two meisters Resonated had nowhere to go but out. It was not nearly as controlled as when a meister drove their wavelength or Resonated with a weapon, so the energy simply sparked and glowed wildly, wherever he and Maka touched. She smiled at him, and her soul pushed against his, the sounds of the guitar bursting against his inner ears, and became more electric. His own note was a cello. She was playing a strong melody for him, willing to be as close as she could to the shinigami. He smiled—it was so like his strong, fearless Maka-chan. He closed his eyes, **and the melody took structure (2).**

He could feel the soft feathers of angel wings, beating and fluttering with power, as the song of her soul swelled around him. It was a low, edgy sound, hard and lovely. It was strong, and he searched for a place to join her, to swell the Resonance. He counted three repetitions, before she at last paused for a moment, and he picked it up with his own note, the mellow, thin sounds of a single cello against the entirely raw blare of an electric guitar. The sound was powerful but sweet, reminiscent of the girl who sat before him. She smiled as he sent the thought, and agreed, observing that he was the same way. The melody flowed like liquid, the sounds of cello dancing around and through the chords of guitar. It was like a continuous poem, or a reflection of their relationship, of them. Her sigh was filled with longing and desire, even as the song still played with their Resonance in full swing. She wanted him so much, she _loved_ him, as much as he did her. But, there was also the full knowledge that they could not be together. It struck him, just then, how sad the melody really was, his own cello mournful as her guitar was raw.

It continued, sad, sweet, powerful. Kid and Maka both found themselves bobbing their heads in time to the rock-roll song, the faintest strains of a drum set in there, too. From his link with the Thompsons, Kid supplied. Maka smiled—percussion fit them well. He found himself running his hands across her skin, watching in fascination as blue sparks erupted wherever he touched her. His thumb ran across her bottom lip, and she shivered. Her body bowed toward him, and he allowed her to suck on his bottom lip. He shivered and moaned as the sensation enhanced itself with their Resonance. Somehow his hands crept up under her Spartoi uniform, and Maka squeaked as his hands gently squeezed and kneaded her breasts. He could feel her heart hammering against his hands, ka-thump-thump-thumping in rapid succession. Her hands found his and pulled them away. She shook her head, and instead snuggled into his chest.

His cello squeaked in protest, unhappy that things had to be this way. Her eyes fluttered open as she struggled to keep up, surprised at how much he sounded like her electric guitar. The melody calmed, and resumed the original rhythm. Chords struck with beauty and grace, cello and electric guitar, and, eventually, the melody faded out, last sweet notes hanging in their heads. Maka opened her eyes again, and wiped at the tears that kept leaking down her face. She kissed him sweetly. She broke the Resonance, and the sparks in the kiss faded, leaving Kid's lips tingling and his emotions shaking.

"I wish we didn't have to be this way."

"Me, too. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She whispered, "Um. We should probably get back."

"Yeah . . ." He stood, and plopped onto the seat beside her, "I wonder what Medusa is planning. Why would she attack this place?"

"I don't know. Well, aren't they technically a different Clan?"

"Yes. But still, her own kind . . ."

"The Gorgon family is a pretty nasty piece of work."

"Indeed."

"Think we'll be there, soon?"

"It's only almost one, Maka."

"Hm. Well, let's go."

He nodded, and stood. She led the way out of the compartment, taking to walking next to him as though he were just a friend, and nothing but. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Maka wasn't sure if she could give it up. He loved her! Her emotions over it were still mixed, and she couldn't decide what she was supposed to feel. She understood he had responsibilities, and the misfortune of biology would put strain on any relationship Kid had, unless it was with another immortal or long-lived being. So, it was better for him to simply wait. Not a problem for someone who would live for millennia.

Angela was in Ginny's lap when they slid the compartment door open. The elder witch was showing the younger her wand, while Luna watched. Maka smiled as she sat back down next to Soul, as Ginny performed a spell, reconstructing a torn candy wrapper. The little witch exclaimed and clapped. Soul tapped Maka on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"What were you two up to?"

"Just a walk."

"You know, you've been spending an awful lot of time with Kid, lately."

"I'm just good friends with him!" Maka attempted to fight down the blush that began to creep up her neck. Soul shrugged.

"Alright. Just . . . let me know if you need anything. Now, I think you'll like this artist . . ."

Maka would just have to live with it. She was the lost little girl who carried fistfuls of suffering and a heart in pieces. He was the stoic, calm boy who was forever immortal and would always walk away from the humans in his life, choosing birthright over heart. Never could they be together, from the cause of their roots, the rhythm of their lifestyles.

No love.

* * *

The sun's shadows were stretching towards evening, as their journey came near to closing. The Scottish countryside was bright, vibrant green, and it rushed past as the minutes progressed, steam locomotive beginning to slow, as they neared Hogsmeade, as Harry and Ginny had informed them. Angela had fallen asleep, and all the wizards had changed into robes. Maka untwisted herself from her frozen position, curled up against Soul's side as she read a textbook Ginny had lent her. The scythe shifted in response, and put his notebook down. She eyed the neatly placed bars, staffs, and notes, before smiling up at him.

"Is it coming along well?"

"Yes, very well."

"May I see?"

He nodded, and showed her as the train continued to slow, and she gathered her things together. The page was filled with long, sweeping notes and high, sweet chords, to produce a light, sweet airy melody. It looked to be a lovely song. Soul nodded, and took the notebook back. He closed it, and stood to grab his luggage. He handed Maka hers, first, and she accepted the white satchel gratefully, along with her soft, plaid-pink suitcase and her black toiletries bag. She slung the satchel and the black bag over her shoulder, and hoisted the suitcase.

"How much longer?"

"About five minutes." Harry supplied.

Kid was holding Angela close, and had long ago organized his luggage, anxiety setting in as they approached closer and closer, stoking his OCD. The little girl shifted, as Kid gently shook her awake. She sat up, yawning widely, and Kid smiled softly. The little witch woke right up, the energy of a six-year-old kicking in. It struck Maka again how great a father Kid would make, as he offered the child a Chocolate Frog. Maka sighed, and tried not to think too long on it. At last, the countryside began to change to that of a small town, and Maka watched the quaint Hogsmeade flash by.

The train slowed to a stop at last, and the students began to disembark, hauling up luggage, sticking close to friends. Soul hoisted his guitar case onto his back, in addition to his bright orange duffel bag. His headphones were slung around his shoulders, and Maka could hear Mindless Self Indulgence from the small speakers. She rolled her eyes at the dreadfully degrading lyrics, but smiled at Soul nonetheless as he bounced in time to the music. Kid was holding Angela's hand, his knapsack slung neatly over his shoulders. Liz slid open their compartment door, and beckoned to them.

"Oi, people, let's move out."

They joined the throng of shuffling students outside, as everyone moved as one to the train exits. Soul shadowed Maka closely, aware of the fact that she was very small, thus prone to being swept away by the crowd. Kid had picked up Angela and held her on his shoulders. She was toying with his soft hair in fascination, and he gave her another sweet to pass the time while they exited the train. Eventually, they came to an exit, and stepped off. Harry, Luna and Ginny waved Spartoi over in the proper direction. Black Star was energetic, and Tsubaki had to stop him from leaping onto any high places in order to make his infamous "entrance speech."

"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!" The call was loud, and Maka looked up to see a very large man, gesturing to a gaggle of very young students between the ages of eleven and twelve.

"That's Hagrid." Came Ginny's voice up ahead, "He's the groundskeeper!"

The group eventually caught up with Harry, Ginny, and Luna, and followed after them to a more open area. Maka peeked over, too short to see what was going on. Soul seemed to hesitate beside her, and took his hand firmly. Angela was already ranting about something from her tall stance on Kid's shoulders. What was going on? She stood on tiptoe to see, and at last, the crowd cleared. A series of carriages were lined up, and students were climbing onto them. They made their way through a large, flagstoned gate trimmed with winged boars, where beyond a large, deep glassy lake stood, over which a beautiful, ancient-looking castle loomed. She could sense a deep magic from this place, along with the many hundreds of Magi souls that surrounded them. It was just falling to twilight, and rich, dark hues of blue darkened the sky, a bit of orange tingeing the horizon in the West, where the sun was setting.

Her eyes returned to the carriages, and the strange, horse-like creatures that pulled them. She wasn't the least bit shocked. Growing up in Death City and working as a meister had taught Maka not to be surprised by most things, anymore. The creatures seemed to be very reptilian, with no hair but for a mane and tale. The creatures' skin hung loosely on the skeletal structure, and seemed to be papery-thin and very sleek. Huge, bat-like wings were folded neatly along the body, over the carriage harness, so as not to harm the delicate limbs. She watched as Kid stepped forward curiously, as though he were drawn to them.

"What are these?"

"They're Thestrals." Luna supplied, "Those who have seen death can see them."

"Oh . . ." Kid had seen many deaths. The creature turned to look at the shinigami and the little witch. It shifted over to Kid, and immediately whiffed at his shoulder. Kid flinched, "What the . . .?"

Liz laughed, "I think he likes you."

Kid looked thoroughly uncomfortable as the Thestral sniffed at his hair and clothing, and nuzzled his hands. Angela was giggling madly, as were Patti and Ginny. Harry had helped Luna onto the carriage, along with Black Star and Tsubaki. Kid bit his lip, and attentively petted the long nose of the magical creature. It snorted happily, and licked his hand. Angela giggled as she ran her fingers through the coarse, black mane. Kid flinched as the Thestral poked at his pockets. He pulled out half of a turkey sandwich he had taken with him and eaten on the train. The Thestral sniffed it, before he (Kid just noted) butted at it. The shinigami unwrapped it and proffered it to the horse. It licked at it, before it snatched it up. Kid took his hand back quickly, to keep his fingers from being snapped off.

"Oi! We don't have all night!" Harry called.

"Sorry."

Kid let the Thestral nuzzle him one last time, before hoisting himself onto the carriage. Liz and Patti where both cracking up, and Harry looked irritated. He smiled sheepishly as Maka and Soul climbed onto the carriage. As it began to move, Black Star suddenly stood in a familiar stance, his index finger pointed to the sky, a huge, determined smile plastered to his face. Spartoi all groaned. Well, it was better here than in a place where it would hinder them.

"LISTEN UP, COMMONERS! I AM THE GREAT AND MIGHTY BLACK STAR! ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE MY AWESOME, THE DAY A HALO APPEARS OVER ME! I AM THE MAN WHO WILL SURPASS GOD! OH, HALO, ALL SHALL—"

Everyone stared as Black Star continued his rant. Spartoi was perfectly used to it, and paid no attention, except maybe for Tsubaki. Harry looked thoroughly uncomfortable, Ginny was doubled over laughing, and Luna listened with great intent. Black Star eventually had to duck as they went under the gate, with the crossbar along the top to lock the doors in. He resumed his speech as Spartoi looked up, in order to take in Hogwarts. Maka had seen it through Shinigami-sama's mirror, sure, but being here . . . it had a grandeur all its own. The castle loomed before them, steady and ancient and strong in its stature. She could feel the magic blazing from it. Soul was checking his iPod, fascinated by the fact that still worked. Harry leaned over.

"It's still alright?"

"Yeah. I was told it might not work. Huh . . . though, I guess Death City is a place with magic as strong as this is. It's the influence of the shinigami, and the fact that it's been steeped in so much spiritual magic for thousands of years. I also hear that Shinigami-sama chose it on purpose. I guess it's a place with a lot of energy."

"Interesting."

"Mmmm." Soul smiled, then frowned, "I hope the headphones work." He listened into one, and grinned, "Yeeesss. Thank you, whackjobbed Death City."

Harry chuckled, "This is an interesting case. Though, I guess we've never met any other people who use magic so much, even if it is a different kind."

"Yeah . . ."

The carriage at last came to a stop. Black Star had managed to finish his speech in time, and jumped down. Tsubaki followed. Maka stood, and let Soul help her down, before she gazed up at the castle in fascination. She looked across the lake to see a series of boats journeying the lake, the first years that Hagrid had called to him earlier. Each boat had its own little light, and they glowed beautifully, refracting against the black water as the enchanted rowboats moved across. A tug at her arm reminded her that she had to move, and she followed after Soul.

They came to the entrance of the lovely castle. The great double-oak doors were thrown wide in welcome, and bright yellow light flooded across the front flagstones. She could see people wandering about as they walked in. Her mouth went rather slack as they walked into the enormous Entrance Hall. A beautiful grand staircase was oriented at the back, carved out of solid marble. To the left, another open set of great oak double doors led into a giant hall, where four long tables were set up, with a smaller one at the head of the room. Students were filtering in. Spartoi followed their magical counterparts into the Great Hall. Harry and Ginny headed straight to a table filled with their fellow students. All wore the standard black robes, but the accents and the crest for their House were red and gold.

Maka took a seat between Soul and Tsubaki. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat across from her. The rest of the students eventually filed in and settled down. Everyone looked expectantly to a small door off to the side of the Hall. Socializing subsided as the door opened, and a short man with what looked to be an old, very beat-up wizard's hat in hand walked up. He was backed by a gaggle of the same young students Maka had seen earlier flocking toward Hagrid. The small professor stepped forward, and set the hat upon a stool. Maka arched an eyebrow in curiosity. Soul had put away his iPod, in favor of paying attention to what was going on around him. Angela's huge dusty-pink eyes widened in wonder, as the hat seemed to twitch. Maka was even more surprised when it began to sing.

"_Oh you may not think I'm pretty, / but don't judge on what you see. / I'll eat myself if you can find / a smarter hat than me. / You can keep your bowlers black,/ your top hats sleek and tall, / for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat / and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head / the Sorting Hat can't see, / so try me on and I will tell you / where you ought to be.  
"You might belong in Gryffindor,/ where dwell the brave at heart. / Their daring, nerve, and chivalry / set Gryffindors apart.  
"You might belong in Hufflepuff,/ where they are just and loyal. / Those patient Hufflepuffs are true / and unafraid of toil.  
"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, / if you've a ready mind, / where those of wit and learning / will always find their kind.  
"Or perhaps in Slytherin / you'll make your real friends. / Those cunning folks use any means / to achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid! / And don't get in a flap! / You're in safe hands (though I have none) / for I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The hat fell silent, and everybody clapped. The small professor stepped forward, adjusting his hat, before he pulled a scroll from his robes, and unfurled it. It fell all the way to the floor, the same length as his small body, "Amnity, Irvine." A boy with pale blond hair, freckles, and warm blue eyes stepped forward. Flitwick held the hat out for him, and the little boy plopped down on the chair. The hat barely touched his head, before it shouted again.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table around them exploded with applause, as Irvine beamed, and walked up to the cheering table. He smiled at Maka, catching her eyes, as he sat down a little ways from where they were. Maka watched as another student was called, and was Sorted into a different House, Hufflepuff this time. Each time, the table for the House cheered as the student walked over and sat down. It made Maka smiled, to see how welcomed the new students were. It seemed very much like the Houses were like a family, while the students resided at Hogwarts.

The Sorting eventually ended, and the Headmistress stood. She was a stern, elderly woman with brown hair pulled into a tight bun, and strong, gem-colored green eyes. She raised her arms with a smile, "Well. I am happy to welcome you all to our first year, as your Headmistress, as well as the first without the Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort." The table all erupted into cheers, and she smiled and nodded, and raised her goblet, "For a new beginning."

Maka gasped as the empty plate before her suddenly filled with food, along with all the serving dishes, and the plates to either side of hers. She heard Soul exclaim, and everyone began to eat, as McGonagall settled back into her seat. It was a delicious spread, and Maka immediately began to munch on the spaghetti and meatballs that had happened to appear on her plate. Kid was eating politely, of course, yet let Angela sit in his lap, indulging the girl as she ate off his plate.

The feast soon ended, and McGonagall once again stood. The students fell silent, waiting with respect for their Headmistress to speak, "We may have a new beginning. Lord Voldemort is gone, and the Wizarding World is rebuilding itself. But even as we mourn our dead, the darkness never sleeps. Many of you are aware of an attack against Hogwarts, that happened not a week ago. A new being has targeted our school, in the form of a magic we do not know or understand. Thus, we have employed the help of another School of Magic, one that defends the muggle world from the dark supernatural. They are muggles themselves, but a special, very rare kind, that have a special magic all their own. We are pleased to welcome the Death Weapon Meister Academy, who have sent their very best, half of the elite Spartoi Unit, as a guard." She smiled and raised her glass to the seven teenagers. Maka beamed, as her heart and soul swelled, and Kid looked fiercely proud. Everyone clapped, people craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the students clad in red, white and blue Japanese-syle school uniforms. Black Star was soaking in the attention, while Tsubaki tried to hold him back from climbing onto the table. Maka felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to find Soul smiling at her, "This is awesome!"

She found her gaze wandering to Kid, who sat on his other side.

"Yeah. Great."

* * *

Maka looked around as they made their way down the Seventh Floor corridor. She was fascinated by the moving portraits, who all smiled and waved down at the students. They even took particular interest in Spartoi, watching the seven teenagers with curiosity, some even asking questions. The group at last stopped, and Hermione and Ron turned to face a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress before them. The young witch smiled. Here it was. The last first day of school at Hogwarts, and it was time to take the First Years and Spartoi to their new home.

"Hydra Heads."

The portrait smiled, and to Maka's surprise, swung open to admit them. She looked everywhere she could take in as they walked through the portrait hole. This was very interesting, almost like their common room was a secret. Though, it was fairly easy to eavesdrop on another person giving the password from afar. Coded messages or some sort of spell might be safer. But, it seemed to work for Gryffindor, so Maka simply shrugged it off.

The room they walked into was circular, and hung in red and gold, the colors dark and rich and comforting. Cushy-looking armchairs and poufs were scattered about the room. Along the back of the circular tower was an enormous bulletin board, which was obviously for posting notices, ads, and such. A large fireplace was to Maka's right of the doorway, in which flames crackled and sparked merrily, in welcome for both the new and returning students. Spartoi filed in among the First Years. Ron and Hermione stopped.

"This is the Gryffindor Common Room. It will be like your second home while you are here. It is our living space, and it's here that friendships are made. Now, the boys' dormitories are to the left, the girls' to the right. Spartoi will be in the Seventh Year dormitories."

The students all nodded to Hermione's explanation, and Ron beckoned the First Year and Spartoi boys to follow. Hermione led the girls up to their sleeping space. Maka followed her friends up several flights of stairs, before they came to a door, with "Gryffindor Seventh Years" posted on the door as a golden plaque. The room beyond was large, with rich, luxurious four-poster beds. Liz gasped, and squealed.

"It's like a hotel!"

Hermione laughed, "I guess it is."

"Yeah. We always stay in places this nice on missions. Having a rich meister benefits."

"Ah. How nice."

"Mmm. He's a good baby brother to have."

Liz smiled fondly, as she settled into her bed, where her stuff was oriented at the foot of her bed. Maka went to her own, as Patti bounded on top of hers. The scythe meister smiled at Tsubaki, who was taking it all with awed silence, as the girls all began to change into their pajamas. The accommodations really where lovely. Other girls began to filter in after, including Ginny, and two other girls named Selena Hopskitch, and Regina Salsovish, who both seemed to be best friends. Those two quickly went to bed, even as the other girls stayed up. More of the Seventh Year class filtered in, as Maka joined Liz on her bed. Hermione and Ginny decided to join them, too, glad to meet new people.

"Are you three nervous?" Hermione asked, " About protecting us all, I mean . . ."

Maka shrugged, "I guess. I don't know, I guess I am. This is fairly typical stuff, for us."

"I see." Hermione fell silent for a moment, then her gaze raised to Maka, "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"You and that boy Kid seem to leave often. Ginny told me you two left for several minutes on the train. There seems to be . . . something."

"O—oh, ah . . . w—we're just very good friends."

Liz arched and eyebrow, "Really, Maka? You think we're that oblivious?"

The scythe meister could feel heat creeping up her neck, and she tried to fight it down, "A—ah, i—it's nothing more, r—really!"

Liz sighed, "Maka, it's okay!"

"Yeah! Kiddo-kun is a good person!" Patti added.

"Indeed. It's okay if you two are together." Tsubaki finished.

Hermione and Ginny were both smiling in encouragement, for the unwavering support of Maka's good friends. She felt her heart grow heavy, like a piece of poisonous lead in her stomach. She tried not to let her face fall, even as her shoulders hunched, and she found sudden interest in the bedspread. She felt Liz's hand on her back, gently rubbing as the demon pistol detected that something was wrong. How could she tell them? Kid was sweet and caring, yes, but what would his partners and friends think when they found out how he had been treating her? She didn't want him to know that others knew. She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth.

"Okay. Kid and I do have a thing. But it's not . . . I don't know . . . _legitimate_. It's more like 'friends with benefits' or something like that. Only more. He and I have more, but he's not willing to invest anything. He says it's because he's immortal, which I guess I understand. It's just . . . hard . . ." She realized just then how choked her voice sounded, and that her eyes were pooling with tears. She wiped at them stubbornly, and shook her head, "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid."

"No, it's okay, Maka-chan. We could talk—"

"No! Don't. He said he doesn't want other people knowing about us. Apparently. I'll just . . . live with what I have?"

"Maka." Hermione's pretty brown eyes were filled with concern, "That's not very healthy."

"I know. Don't care. I get to have Kid, just a little bit of him."

The witch sighed, and nodded, "Just think about it. We're all here, if you need to talk, okay?"

"Okay."

"Let's get to bed." Tsubaki suggested.

The girls all agreed, and returned to their own beds. Maka felt her stomach twist into uncomfortable knots as she lay down, and grimaced at the sensation. The pillows was so, so, very soft, as she lay on it and tried to imagine what Kid would feel like, laying next to her. Soft. And warm, his silky skin spread out before her to smooth her hands over, to cuddle into. It was incredible how much she wanted him. She didn't know she could ever want a boy so much, until she first began to look at him in a different way. Sometimes, it made her laugh in bitterness, the irony of it all. How very like Juliet she was, and how very likely her romance with Kid would end in tragedy. She, Maka, the conservative, cautious girl was involved in an illicit, secret relationship with Death's son. It was so cruel, and it made her sad. She had even taken him up on his desperate offer, when she knew perfectly well he could not provide her with what she needed and wanted.

Love made you do crazy things.

* * *

The snake witch paced back and forth as she considered her options. Shibusen had made a wise move, in sending Spartoi to protect it. Of course, if they hadn't failed, this would not be a problem. She sighed, and turned to the mage.

"What do you propose we do?"

"I think it might be a wise idea to get rid of Maka Albarn."

"Hmmmm. I like the way you think."

"I could send Gopher, he attemp—"

"Gopher failed. No. I have a much better alternative."

"And what is this?"

Medusa's smiled was too wide, as she beckoned to the shadows, from which a thin girl in a long, black dress and soft, ironically cotton-candy hair stepped out.

"Crona, I have a job for you."

* * *

**A/N: **Medusa is eviiiiiillllll. You'll be seeing maor eviiilll later~

ANYWAY. Yes, I know. The KidxMaka is depressing, lately. Also, I'm sorry the chapter turned out rather dull. Traveling_ is_ generally dull. XD I promise there will be more action later. I also loved Kid doting on Angela. :3 I can see him being a very indulgent father with a soft spot for children, like Shinigami-sama. ^^ And the Thestrals all love Kid. XD Lol, being Death has its downturns, too. I have decided I now ship ThestralxKid. Yesh~ As well as KidxRed Jag. EVEN BETTER. XD

Oki, next chappie~ This one was Maka's, so the next is Soul's. We will have more romantic development from his side (we haven't gotten too much), more KidxSoul and SoulxMaka fluffy, aaand, some pivotal stuffs happening between Soul and Maka. *Le gasp!*

Hope you enjoyed!

**LOOK. MEDUSA WILL GET YOU IF YOU DON'T CLICK IT. YOU DON'T WANT THE SNAKES TO BITE YOU, RIGHT?**

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